


all of me, you take now

by xxBech



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Body Image Insecurity, Characters to be added, Drabble Series, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Insomnia, Its so much fluff. bye, M/M, it's just fluff., like that's kind of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:31:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxBech/pseuds/xxBech
Summary: strings of oneshots featuring two boys that are obsessed with each other. the first one?"Quit fucking doing that with your eyebrows," Isak said, a huff of laughter giving him away. Even snorted."Then stop doing that your mouth!" He fired back, trying to toe the door shut behind him following an indignant "What!" from the other boy."What--" He stared at the door, eyebrows scrunched and mouth peeling back in a smile. "Quit deflecting me! Why are you doing laundry at my house!"





	1. how to: tell him he lives here

**Author's Note:**

> so... hello
> 
> sort of restarting on this website & hoping this goes well. this series is, more or less, meant to be a series of unrelated oneshots (unless otherwise specified) and I would absolutely adore it if this was prompt-based. like i have a couple ideas of my own, but if someone has an idea... you can find me as [@lachesisrn](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> feedback gives me life, comments get me out of bed in the morning. love you.
> 
> title from "The Good In Me" by Jon Bellion (which i... personally.. feel... is like... isak's song @ even goodb ye)

“Is this yours?” Even perched over the laundry, holding a rolled shirt in his palm. It was white, like that was an indicator of anything.

“Uh.”

His face folded in a squinting smirk, crumpling the shirt in his fingers again as he threw it in the basket. “Does it matter?” Isak asked, only slightly debating if he wanted the answer or not. His fingers only loosened around his phone when Even shrugged a shoulder.

“I dunno,” his English making the other boy’s fingers tighten again. “I guess not.”

“Are you… doing laundry?” He asked carefully, squint matching Even’s from a moment ago. 

“Because you don’t,” He winked, her perched the basket under his elbow, backing toward the door. Isak balked, his mouth gaping in mock defense. “What! You don’t!”

“I do my own laundry! Jesus, who do you think I am?” He started to roll his knees off the bed when a scoff jerked his head back towards Even.

“The fuck you do!” His smile was turning Isak’s elbows to jelly. “Isak, I’ve been doing our laundry--”

“ _Our_ laundry?”

“ _Our_ laundry, almost the entire time I’ve been here.” He leaned his side against the door, twisting the knob under his fingers. 

“And what’s that been?” Isak stood this time, hands on his hips. He leaned forward a tad, like he looking at his boyfriend over a pair of glasses that didn’t exist. Even’s eyebrows picked up, that dumbass fucking blinding smile making the other boy’s stomach hurt. 

“I’ve been here for, like, a month, _mom_. Jesus. I don’t want Linn to worm her way into the washer before--”

“Like you know Linn’s laundry habits!” He raised his own eyebrows, making Even giving him skeptical look.

“Do _you_?” He fired back, eyebrows lifting again when Isak pursed his lips. “ _Mhm._ What’s your problem, man? It’s just laundry,” it was meant to be teasing, but Isak’s ears were a little more rosé than he probably cared for. So, Even pretended not to notice. “Is it because you didn’t know if that shirt was mine or yours?”

The other boy’s shoulders dropped a little, his arms crossing over his chest. Even let out a little amused sigh, taking the two steps toward Isak and planting a kiss on his nose. A little noise escaped Isak’s throat. From what, though, Even let slide in favor of an answer. 

“C’mon, pouty.”

“ _Shut_ ,” Isak palmed Even’s face, hand sort of placed lamely over the bottom half of his face. Even’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “Shut up. It’s just weird, I guess. Domestic.” Even raised his eyebrows from behind Isak’s hand, smile never fading. Isak poked his front tooth with a pinky.

"Quit fucking doing that with your eyebrows," Isak said, a huff of laughter giving him away. Even snorted.

"Then stop doing that your mouth!" He fired back, trying to toe the door shut behind him following an indignant "What!" from the other boy.

"What--" He stared at the door, eyebrows scrunched and mouth peeling back in a smile. "Quit deflecting me! Why are you doing laundry at my house!" He was flushing, Even could hear it in his voice.

“I like it here!” He yelled back, listening to his boyfriend fall back on the bed without a word.

#####

That was the first time. The second time came a few days later, in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t like it was a _good_ day, if either of them were honest. Even was teetering, Isak was exhausted (his relationship with sleep was complicated, Even learned quickly) enough to doze off at 4:30 in the afternoon. He made Even promise to wake him up to keep his sleep schedule from getting fucked, but Even… couldn’t. Isak was adorable with hair sort of sticking at weird angles after taking off his hat, his lips parted, face smushed against the comforter (he didn’t even make it to the pillow, poor kid). On top of that, he _needed_ the nap. 

Even could have gotten a lot done during that time if he wasn’t busy listening to the little noises his boyfriend made, if he wasn’t busy curling and uncurling all the locks of Isak’s hair between his fingers. Isak wasn’t even mad when he woke up, significantly more interested in hugging the other boy to his chest as he lulled in an out for almost a half hour.

He wasn’t wide awake now, or anything. His head kind of hurt from scrolling through his phone at one in the morning, only twisting around to watch Even shift around in his own slumber. 

He’d had a lazy day. Isak let him, was completely understanding of why Even wasn’t interested in even _eating_. He wasn’t going to make him. He wasn’t about to wake him from the relief sleep brought him, either.

Still, sure enough, Even’s eyes peeled open around 2:45, a dead arm wrapping loosely around Isak’s chest. He turned to lie flat on his back, neck twisting to the right to see the other’s washed expression.

“You okay?” He murmured, not expecting Even to answer. He got a shrug. Good enough. “Need anything?” Even swallowed, arm bending to let a finger trace his boyfriend’s jaw line.

“Water?” He asked quietly, barely enough for Isak to catch it. Once he moved to go get it, though, Even made a whining noise and tugged him back down. “Nevermind. Don’t leave.”

“Okay.” he whispered, shifting down and lying to face Even properly. He ran his thumb over his cheekbone, watching the older boy’s vacant eyes travel over his face.

“Can we stay like this?” Isak almost missed it, having to watch Even’s lips move to even know he’d spoken. It made his chest tighten, reminded him a little of October. October? November?

He caught himself nodding. Even nodded back, tugging him a little closer. “Yeah,” Isak breathed, answer almost lost in the silence of his room as he bumped their noses together. “Yeah, you’re not going anywhere.”

In the morning, they’d still been exactly like that. Even woke to kisses peppered across his cheek, to whispers of “If you’re up for going to school, we need to get up,” in his ear. He swallowed, tugging the younger boy against him. He knit his fingers in Isak’s hair as lips connected with his pulse.

He felt the other boy shiver against him. Isak tugged backward, meeting his eyes. 

“Are you making me leave?” It was a joke. Even was joking. Isak was not.

“The fuck?” he asked, eyes almost… hurt? “No? I told you you’re not going anywhere?”

“No,” Even’s eyebrows scrunched together. “No, I meant the bed?” He smiled. “You want me to stay in here with you?”

“Always,” Isak answered before he thought about it, his ears reddening almost _immediately_. He opened his mouth too quickly to retract it, but Even beat him there with a kiss.

Long and slow enough to make Isak _almost_ forget what’d even happened, Even was bumping their noses together in some sort of agreement. “Okay, I can stay.”

#####

The third time was enough to make it stick, Isak had found. 

It was quick and he wasn’t thinking -- which he was a goddamn _pro_ at, apparently.

Even had sent him a link to a song during biology. It was crossing weird borders, the guy more talking into a microphone with some… interesting… synth sounds following him around. Talking about lips that tasted like June, about legs putting him in a tomb. It made his stomach flutter. Would he ever admit to it? Fuck no.

It took him a lot longer to process than he would’ve liked, so he knew that when Even caught him at his locker and asked him what he thought, he was going to say something stupid enough to make Even smile hard enough to make his knees give out. He _knew_ it.

So when Even _had_ approached him a little later in the afternoon, right as he was listening to Magnus and Jonas go off about how somebody was apparently getting sucked off in the bathroom during Norwegian, the hand on the small of his back wasn’t unwelcome. But he also knew it was time to flee. 

“Oh, I actually need to go,” He started, looking at his wrist that definitely didn’t have a watch on it. “I’ll-- I’ll see you guys after class, cool? You too, Even.” He smiled, doing a dumb little salute that still made Even’s eyes crinkle. _Cool_ , he acknowledged to himself. _Not doing that anymore_. 

“Wait, babe,” Even called after him. He heard the other boy jog to catch up to him, and this was it, he’d never live this moment down. He turned on his heel, still making an effort to walk backwards. 

“Hm?”

“I’m headed out,” He said, pointing back over his own shoulder. “I’m going home. Cool? See you soon?”

“Oh,” He let out a breathe, feeling relieved as he pulled his keys from a pocket to toss to the other boy. “Okay, cool. See you.” Even caught them in his fist, completely frozen for a moment.

“What?” Isak asked, a huff of laughter getting out as Even thawed. “Did I-- did you want a kiss?” He moved back, catching Even’s bottom lip. He thumbed his nose as he started to move away again. 

“I-- home,” Even swallowed, collecting himself as quickly as he could. He had a _demeanor in public_ , damnit, he wasn’t gonna let Isak ruin it that easily. “I meant… back to my house,” He laughed. He held out the keys. Isak paused, something panging in his stomach.

 _Oh, shit_. He barely moved to grip the keys again before Even was shaking his head, stuffing them back in his pocket. “Actually,”

“I didn’t mean to say,” Isak sputtered, and Even was reminded of his scrambling in the bathroom. _I mean, if that makes you sad-- then-- then--_ “I didn’t-- I wasn’t trying to say that my home is your home, I just figured,”

“It _is_ home, Isak,” He cut him off, mouth lifting into that dumb smile Isak had been avoiding _all day_ , goddamnit, “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll see you at home, then.” He kissed him chastely, and Isak had to grip his shoulder to keep from falling under his buckling knees. 

“Home, then.” He breathed back, giving him another kiss as he moved away again, mind already racing before Even was catching him again with an “Oh, wait, Isak--”

The other boy turned. “Did you listen to that song?”


	2. how to: make sure he sleeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _sleepy isak or isak struggling with his insomnia, something to that extent._
> 
>  
> 
> that definitely made my entire week. love you :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love writing this & seeing you guys respond to it. my heart swells.
> 
> i have a couple ideas for this moving forward but if y'all wanna see something then i'm definitely down to write it...just sayin
> 
> find me/send me prompts/talk to me [@lachesisrn](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com) on tumblr.

Listen.

Even was not dumb. Not that anyone had ever said he was.

But listen. He wasn’t dense. He’d had _years_ of practice learning body language and behaviors, and alongside knowing Isak like the back of his hand, there was pretty much zero chance the younger boy was going to get away with keeping something bottled up.

They’d actually _agreed_ to keep themselves upfront about this sort of stuff. So, one of two things had to have happened: Isak was pulling that whole _i-don’t-want-to-bother-you_ shit again (which had only happened twice before, almost exclusively when Even was struggling to keep himself from seeping into the mattress), or Isak legitimately didn’t know there was a problem.

The more he thought about it, the more it definitely had to be the latter. That was basically the boy’s fucking life story: refusing to recognize his problems until he fell off the deep end. Until someone forced him to. Until the building came crashing down on him. Yeah. You get his point. 

Until Even figured out what it was, though, there was almost no way to approach Isak about it. 

He started taking notes, basically. Isak’s slightly slumped demeanor, waving off more ridiculous commentary than usual, plugging his ears and squinting ( _“Do you have a headache, or something?” “It’s probably just because I haven’t eaten yet.”_ ), sluggishness. Taking way longer to process a conversation was probably the most notable one; what was normal a sly, quick-witted second year had become slow-blinking, shrugging without any real reply.

Even knew Isak had a complicated relationship with sleep, hardly different than his own. That’s just the way it was, and of course he’d wondered if something more was happening with his boyfriend. Of course his concern was there. The only reason he’d never pestered beyond “I know why _I’m_ awake at this hour, but why are _you?_ ” was because it was always met with a _sleepy_ reply, something exclusively to the effect of “because you snore like a goddamn hyena,” or “weird dream,” something that made Even only tug him closer. Something that didn’t make him think much of it. Something that didn’t make Even realize he’d been awake for a while now, maybe even as long as Even… Just without commentary. Without noise?

Maybe Isak didn’t want him to know he was awake? 

He scrunched his eyebrows, pausing all movement as he leaned over the table.

Even scanned the other boy up and down from across the kitchen. His hand sort of paused, toast inches from his lips, which was probably a more obvious gesture than he needed at 6:45 in the morning. He blinked twice before he caught Isak looking at him with a raised brow.

“You good?” He asked, voice still gravelly from sleep. With a quick that _maybe he did get some sleep_ followed by a little jarring _what if he’s faking it,_ Even nodded, clearing his throat and setting down the toast. “Look like you just had an epiphany, or something.” Isak added.

He shook his head, scrambling a little to come up with something.

“No, no,” He smiled, getting up to meet Isak where he perched against the counter. “I just forgot I had a paper due this morning.”

Isak raised his brow again. “You don’t look very upset about it.” Even swallowed, tilting his chin. 

“It’s hard to be upset when I’m looking at-- Hey!” He jerked backward, mock-surprise mottling his features as he palmed his neck. Isak had jammed his thumb into whatever remnants of a hickey Even had on his neck, a grimace unfolding on his bowed lips.

“Don’t even,” Isak was fighting a smile. It sort of ruined Even’s facade, too. “It’s too early for you to be this annoying.”

“Annoying?!” His voice popped. Isak raised both eyebrows this time, quickly looking over his shoulder like hallway activity was the sole indicator of life in the apartment.

“ _Yes_ , annoying, can you _shut up?_ ” He hissed, smile never fading. “If we wake them up, I’m never going to be allowed in this house again.” He barely finished his sentence before Even was pulling him to his chest, arms bunched against his chest and nose in his neck. “What--”

“Then _be quiet,_ ” Even was chuckling. Isak started grumbling, but he talked over the younger boy. “You’re the one that was up at four o’clock. Besides, Noora has to wake up soon regardless.”

Even had actually caught him last night, which is what lead to rehashing all his thoughts this morning. He’d rolled over in bed to find Isak straight up staring at him, wide awake with arm tossed over his head. He’d jolted, barely awake on his own, making Isak snort and pull on his sleeve. It became a staring contest both of them forgot about when someone rolled over the remote, the sound from the TV making both of them jump in a way they’d agreed not to talk about again.

Even wasn’t gonna let him off that easy, but he’d wait a few days to tease him.

“You’re warm,” Isak muttered, bringing Even out of his thoughts again. “I could fall asleep like this.” 

It was offhanded. Even knew it was supposed to be offhanded, but that didn’t meant it didn’t make him swallow harshly.

#####

Within the month, three other people mentioned something.

“What's his deal?” Jonas would ask him quietly. Even shrugged, passing it off with “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Are you guys alright?” Eskild’s curious tone bounced off the kitchen walls, Even’s stunned “What?” enough to satiate him. 

“Is Isak doing… okay?” Noora cornered him in the kitchen, almost 1:30 in the morning as he pulled cereal from the cabinet. “I mean, he hasn't… been himself?”

“Well, I mean,” he looked over her shoulder towards their room, knowing full well that Isak was scrolling through Instagram right now. “He's fine, really. He's just been sleeping a lot more. Stressed out by his mom.” 

Noora seemed that an acceptable answer, her bottom lip worried between her teeth. “Let me know if I can help.”

When he went back into the room, he flicked a frosted flake at his boyfriend, who responding with a lame whine. 

“Why,” He asked plainly, flicking it from his own cheek and to the floor. He plucked his phone from the mattress as Even sat propped up beside him, eating his cereal in the quiet as the younger boy backed into his thigh. 

He hardly finished with a “I’m so tired, Evi,” before the other boy was setting down the bowl, curling up behind him with a peck to the shoulder. “Why does sleep hate me.”

“I think you and sleep are actually pretty good friends, considering you sleep deeper than anyone I’ve ever seen.” Even pecked another kiss to his shoulder.

“How many people have you watched sleep?” He fired back, making Even scoff. 

“How about,” He kissed his ear. “You tell me why you can’t sleep, instead.”

“How about,” Isak wriggled around until he was facing Even. “You keep kissing me, and I tell you about it in the morning.” He tilted his chin up, and he fucking _knew_ Even was gone.

#####

“Even,” Noora was hissing in his ear, disrupting him from wherever he’d been before. He blinked a few times and scrubbed at his eyes, wondering if he’d been asleep or straight up-- _“Even.”_

“What?” He bit back, looking at her earnestly (if not a little exasperated). 

“Are you and Isak okay? Did you fight last night after we talked?” She reached out for his wrist as he carefully tugged his hood further over his head. “Even?”

“Can you-- Noora,” He tugged on his hood again, trying to keep his voice level. It’s not like he _wanted_ her to see the hickeys littering his throat. They’d been _busy_ last night after their talk last night, okay? “We’re fine, I promise. What is with you guys? Every time one of us is a little out of it--”

“Even, that’s not why.” The name game had become something of a thing for them, mostly evident by the way she repeated “Even” three more times before he was able to digest any other word she said. “Even, he’s not right. Have you seen him at all today?” She made a flippant gesture across the courtyard, and Even peaked up to see his boyfriend leaning lazily against a bike rack as he smiled at Mahdi.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s either high or upset.”

“He’s tired, Noora.”

“Then what is he losing sleep over?”

Good question. Even blinked slowly, moving up from his own slouched position to nod at her. “I guess I should ask, huh.”

“You haven’t _asked?_ ”

“No, Noora, Jesus,” He smiled, scrubbing at his eyes again. “Girl, I’m super tired. Of course I asked. You know him, though, he’s just not responsive to those sorts of things.”

#####

Four days had passed since that when his patience came to fruition. It was 23:30 when Isak woke up with his breath heaving, turning over on the mattress as he hunted for whatever part of his boyfriend he could reach. Even slapped at his hand, clasping it and holding it tightly as he waited for Isak to collect himself.

Even had been sitting on the floor with his laptop open, actually writing a paper this time when he’d heard the other boy flip out. He didn’t let go of Isak’s hand as he crawled over his side of the mattress, leaning over him. Isak had his face dug into his palm as he struggled to breathe, eyes squeezed shut as he squeezed Even’s hand numb.

“Babe?” Even asked, sitting up to take his free hand and brush it through Isak’s hair. “Isak?”

“Go back to sleep,” the other boy mumbled. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake, boy.” He smiled, continuing to brush his hair. He debated for a moment, deciding if this would be an okay time to push. It only took a few moments before he was whispering, “Were you having a nightmare?

“I have them a lot,” Isak murmured, making the older boy’s chest hurt. “Sorry. They’re not really… they’re not important.”

“You’ve never said anything about them?” He asked, leaning over Isak further to brush his nose along his cheek. He smiled when he felt the tension from the younger boy melt, his hand easing away from his face as he sighed. He stroked his thumb down Isak’s hand as he turned to lie on his back, noses brushing together from where Even hovered.

“Yeah, because they’re not important. I’d figured they’d just stop.” He whispered, hand still a solid weight in his boyfriend’s.

“Do you want to talk about them?” 

“What I _want_ ,” Isak shifted around, giving Even an opportunity to lie down next to him. “Is for my brain to stop. I keep thinking about, like…” His eyes wandered.

“Babe, you can tell me.” He whispered. Isak clapped his hand over his face again. Even blinked slowly, wondering if Isak was thinking of their talk from several weeks ago. _Is… He actually going to say something?_ He thought for a moment.

“I don’t know what to do. I keep… my mom is yelling at me. I’m sitting in the living room and I have my phone in my lap, and she’s yelling about how my dad isn’t going to come back because he’ll never believe her, he’ll never understand, something, she just…” He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s telling me I’m going to leave her, too. And then I do. I get out because I can’t handle her.

“It’s like a memory, at that point. That’s why it’s so scary. Things are fine and things move forward, no one knows that I left my mom. No one knows she’s out of her mind until I accidentally mouth off about it to a cute boy because his eyes make me stop thinking.” His eyes wandered to Even, who only blinked in response. This wasn’t… Going to be about him. Even, in that moment, refused to let his boyfriend think of this sourly. He tried to communicate with his eyes.

 _It doesn’t matter. We’re good. It doesn’t matter._

“And then he leaves,” Isak breathes, maintaining eye contact. “He leaves and I realize that is what my dad did to my mom. He told her she was nuts. And she got scared. The difference is that my dad is the one who left, and I’m letting _him_ leave--” His hand squeezed Even’s, who suddenly was overwhelmed a need to cuddle this boy until the ache in his voice left.

“My brain doesn’t shut the _fuck_ up,” Isak whispered, palm over his eyes. “It’s like the plague, or something. Every _fucking_ time I think I’m fine again, _bam,_ new lesion. Only it’s my _thoughts_. It feels like I’m rotting. You can cut me open, all the flesh will be grisly. Dried out. Because I can’t sleep.”

Even’s heartstrings were tugging from every direction, little pangs of empathy striking him behind his eyes. Despite this, he still replied with, “You should write that down. That was poetic.”

Isak’s lips turned up. “Fuck you.”

“Anytime,” He smirked, turning up to lean on his elbow, leaning over his boyfriend a little. “But really. I know what you mean. Like… _Really really_ know. I know exactly what that feels like. You could have said something. I’m the master of sleeping techniques.”

“You’re depressed, that--” Before he could finish, his eyes peeked between his fingers, absolutely _horrified_ , “Oh, Jesus, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I--”

Even was feigning shock, he knew it was obvious, but… There was no helping it. “That was the rudest thing you’ve ever…” His eyes wandered, clinging to his facade. _“Wow.”_

“Even, I didn’t--”

“Don’t freak,” He palmed Isak’s mouth. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. Listen, Isak,” He gripped one of the hands over his eyes, tugging it away to see those earthy greens aching. “I don’t know where you came up with that line, but guess what, I feel like that _all the time_ too. Like my head gets all overcast, and it becomes a scene out of that one Steve Carell movie you like. Flooding. You know. I get soaked to the bone and somehow the waves blister me at the same time, y’know? It--”

 _“Even.”_ His eyes snapped down to the younger boy, who looked more terrified than anything. His open hand came to stroke Even’s cheekbone. “Why do you talk like that?”

He sighed. “Isak, c’mere,” He lied on his side again, tugging the other boy against his chest. Isak wiggled his arm underneath Even, hugging him around his ribs as he dug his nose into his collarbone. Even carded his fingers through Isak’s hair, other arm squeezing back just as tightly.

“You’re not alone, okay? That’s what I’m trying to… yeah. I’ve been there, still _am_ there. I get it. I just wished you mentioned something instead of just letting it happen.” He planted a kiss on Isak’s head. “I can help you.”

Isak said said something against his shirt, lost on Even’s ears. He was pretty sure he asked _how_ , though, so he ran with it.

“Well,” He pursed his lips, pulling back a little so Isak could tilt his head up. “Could tire you out?” He raised his eyebrows, half-joking when it earned him a snort from the other boy. “You think I’m kidding?”

“Why are you like this,” Isak smiled, eyes getting squinty. “I meant like… valium, or something.”

“That too,” He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to just ride it out, let yourself be exhausted. Sometimes exercise. Melatonin, if it won’t fuck with your system. Sometimes valerian tea is enough… it sorta varies.” Isak pursed his lips out in thought, making Even smile. “Okay, Squirtle, you know what helps the most, though?”

Isak balked. _“Squirtle?”_

“If you didn’t do that with your fucking mouth,” Even pinched his side, making the other boy squeal and try to shove him away with minimal avail. “Maybe the resemblance wouldn’t be so obvious. But, listen,” He gathered him up again, planting a little kiss on his nose. “For real, if you can’t sleep, sometimes that’s just it. It’s irritating and exhausting, but even if you can’t sleep. Just lay around with your eyes closed. No lights, no sounds, no nothing. Just keep your eyes shut and breathe. Even if it doesn’t take you to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Really?” He asked, voice a little quieter. Even brushed a lock of hair back from his forehead, brushing the tips of their noses together.

“I wouldn’t be telling you if I didn’t know.” They held eye contact for a moment, Isak tilting his head back a tad and making it damn near impossible for Even not to kiss him.

“Thanks,” Isak mumbled against the other boy’s lips. Even rolled them so Isak was on his back, the older boy’s elbows locking him in place with his hands framing his shoulder blades. One of Isak’s hands came to fold through Even’s hair, sort of holding them in a closed kiss. 

“Isak, for what it’s worth,” He whispered, “It doesn’t matter. Your dream-- _nightmare--_ doesn’t matter. I’m right here. Not leaving.”

“I know,” He mumbled. “It just feels _real._ And that’s why it burns, I guess. That’s why I didn’t say anything, either.”

Silence hung over them for a few minutes as they held each other, noses bumping and legs tangling when they tilted to their sides. Even held Isak’s face in his palms, pressing light kisses to his lips whenever he made whining noises in his throat. The younger boy’s hands caught on the back collar of Even’s shirt, tracing over the ridges of the top of his spine. He threw his leg over his hip. He stayed for a moment, only deciding once more to hum -- which, as planned, got him another little chaste kiss. It always worked. It _always_ worked.

“For real, though,” Even murmured against Isak’s cheek a moment later. “You should write that lesion thing down. Beautiful.”

“Fuck you,” the other boy spoke in English as he laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen
> 
> he looks like a squirtle and i'm sorry but it's true
> 
> find me [here](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com) and be my friend


	3. how to: talk about mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again,,,
> 
> i had class last night and my phone died before I could finish this up. 
> 
> this chapter is going to be brought up again down the line, which is why it exists in the first place. and i needed the, like, last three paragraphs to happen. just to have them. happen. 
> 
> find me [here on tumblr.](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com) send a prompt?

_“What?”_

Even looked up slyly, a poorly withheld smile decorating his features from his spot across the kitchen. He was sort of crouched behind the counter, his fingertips gripping the edge. “What are you doing?”

“You…” His smile grew when [Isak raised an eyebrow](https://68.media.tumblr.com/d1f6f0e686e784dd31735e5a8ecb0691/tumblr_ok2mcjBlTj1rn5ijro1_400.gif). “I think I found something.”

Isak squinted that time, rooted to his spot on the linoleum with his phone in one hand and other raised lazily, held up in whatever frustration he was facing over text. “That’s not good for you.” 

“What?” Even furrowed his brow.

“Thinking.”

“Shut up,” He smiled, leaning down slightly. Isak stood for a moment longer, eyeing his boyfriend carefully before settling back against the counter.

After a week of some of the worst debating Even had ever seen out of the other boy, Isak had worked himself up enough to nearly black out from-- well. 

The worse he stressed himself out (something Isak is horridly prone to doing to himself, but Even would never mention that), the worse he tends to sleep, the less he tends to eat, and the lengthier his showers become. A combination of those things made him unbearably irritable and Even totally understood it, tried not to pry and let him work on it himself. God only knows how many times Isak’s done that for him. 

Last week had sort of been the pinnacle of it, though. They were alone in the apartment on a Sunday afternoon, Even lying on the couch in the living room when a, well, startlingly loud crash from the bathroom pulled him from whatever stupor he was in.

“Isak?” He called out, and when there was no reply, he jumped over there like there was a fire. _“Isak?”_

“I’m fine,” A low echo slowed his blood pressure, and Even sighed. “I just… Ah. You can go.”

“Are you alright?” He breathed, trying to listen for his boyfriend over the shower that was still running. Even twisted the knob carefully, making an effort not to be frustrated that the knob was still locked. “That sounded pretty catastrophic.”

“I slipped,” He barely got out before Even was turning the knob again, replying with “Can you--”

The knob clicked. Even let out a relieved sigh as he carefully opened the door, not exactly sure where Isak was at-- the sink, it would turn out. He was settled on the counter in a towel, holding a washcloth to his chin, small splotches of blood already decorating the cloth. Even swallowed heavily, taking a step forward as Isak made eye contact.

“How did you slip?” He asked quietly, turning the water off in a single motion before he was back to take the place of Isak’s hand beneath the cloth. Isak shrugged plainly, which he should have known (and probably did) that Even wouldn’t accept that as an answer. He titled Isak’s chin up to make eye contact again, staring at him earnestly when Isak sighed again, eyes closing. 

“I guess the water was too hot, or something. _I dunno,_ ” he breathed the last part in English, eyes roaming as he tilted his head further back. “I guess I haven’t been sleeping too well. The steam fucked with my head, I think.”

“You _blacked out?”_ He tried not to raise his voice, but it still reverberated off the bathroom walls. 

“No! No. I just… Faded out.”

“You blacked out.”

“I did not.”

“What are you so bothered by? I know you haven’t been sleeping, I’m around you every night. Like, I know you wanna deal with this on your own and I totally get that,” He searched for Isak’s eyes again. “But if it’s making you do _that--_ ”

“My mom texted me,” He said. Even couldn’t decide if he was somewhere between nonplussed or irritated. “It was coherent, which, I guess isn’t that unusual, but I feel bad that I never said anything. It’s been over a week and if I texted her back _now,_ I think she’d know something was up.”

“Okay,” Even kept his voice level. “What do you want to do, then?”

“I was thinking of stopping by my house, or something. After school one day. Just to see what’s up. I can’t tell my dad about it because I’m not even sure anything’s wrong. I just wanna see if she’s… How she’s doing.” He tugged the cloth from Even’s hand, twisting around to examine his chin in the mirror. After deciding it was clotted, he stepped off the counter and padded back towards his room.

“I think that would be good for you,” Even said from the doorway. “Maybe closure, or something. Maybe reconnect with her.”

“I’m not really sure that I want to.” He said quietly, and it’s not like Even was taken aback by his tone of voice. He just wasn’t… _Used to,_ he guessed, Isak being this up front about something like that. “Reconnect, that is. I just want to see what’s up.”

So, here they were. Standing in the kitchen adjoined to the living room in Isak’s old home. Completely alone on a Tuesday afternoon. When they arrived, Isak wasn’t surprised to see she wasn’t around, and if Even had no problem with it, he asked to wait for her. So here they were.

Even hadn’t, like, started rummaging through their stuff. He’d been leaning against the outside counter, sort of in between the sofa and the counter. He’d leaned pretty far back when his toes connected with a cabinet, and, well. Here they were.

Isak wrinkled his nose in some sort of _make me_ gesture, propping his elbow against the counter on the far side of the kitchen. Even slowly leaned down, fingers finding a little binder inside the cabinet he could hardly open before it smacked into the sofa. He pulled it out carefully, making an effort not to disrupt anything else in the hidden cabinet (mostly loose papers another a couple other binders Even didn’t care to pick through, mostly because they weren’t labelled _gamle bilder*)_. Isak eyed him the entire time, tucking his phone in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and fixing his hair underneath his snapback for… whatever reason he needed to do that. It only solidified Even’s claims that _you do care about your hair, babe, you can just say it_ that were exclusively met with _no, i don’t, thanks_ and a squint that didn’t convince the older boy in the slightest. 

“What’d you find? All that’s down there is, like… certificates and real estate stuff.” He shrugged. 

_“And,”_ Even smiled something wicked, fingers carefully placing the binder on the counter with the label out. Before he could even get a snide comment on his lips, Isak’s eyes were blowing wide and he was straight up _leaping_ over the counter, tackling Even over the back of the sofa and rolling them both to the floor. Even was giggling, sputtering as Isak wrestled him to the floor, straddling his hips with his hands on his chest.

_“No,”_ Isak hissed, eyes glassing over when he peaked up at the binder, cover totally flipped open to the first page. “You… No. Nope.” It was English as he pushed Even further into the floor when he tried to prop himself on his elbows.

“What?” Even matched him, _wh-_ coming out like a whistle. “What’s so bad about those photos?” Isak flushed, a smattering of red adorning his cheeks and ears. Even let out a huff of laughter, successfully propping himself up this time as he looked for eye contact.

“Um,” Isak swallowed with eyes still on the binder. “It’s just… Old stuff. My… yeah.”

“Baby photos?” Even shot, tilting his head back slightly when Isak fired him a grimace. “What’s so bad about them?” Isak swallowed, leaning back on Even’s hips and letting his hands up from the other boy’s chest. Even hummed once as he waited. 

The younger boy seemed to calm down about it as the moments passed, eventually opening and closing his mouth a few times before opening up with, “I don’t actually know what’s in that binder, like, it could be anything. I’m _guessing_ it’s baby photos, and I don’t give a fuck if you see those, but for all I know, like… it could be my mom and dad’s wedding. It could be photos of me and Jonas when we were kids. It could be Lea. It could be that trip to Copenhagen my parents took when I was a baby.” He shrugged, settling further when Even tugged on the empty space in his sleeves. 

“Lea?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Isak shrugged, giving Even a small smile before he leaned forward and planted a little kiss between his eyes because he just. Couldn’t help it. He crawled out of his lap pretty quickly, making a little _i’unno_ as he walked back toward it. 

“Uh, let me see if it’s… Actually her.” He dragged the binder to the edge of the counter, pulling the plastic sheets apart as he peaked through it.

“You gonna tell me even if it’s not?”

“Sister.” Isak shrugged. Even worried his lip from his spot on the floor. 

“Sister?”

“She’s gone.” He shrugged again, and Even got the message. Isak blinked, palming his eyes once before peeling more of the sheets apart. “This is just, like, a weird collection of things my mom took photo of. Like,” he gently tugged one from its sleeve, wiping off the dust with his sleeve before he held it up in the other boy’s direction. He jumped up from the carpet, plucking it from his boyfriend’s fingers in three strides. 

It was a photo in a park, exactly what Isak had guessed: him and Jonas settled upside down on one of those metal gymnastics bars, smiling at the camera. They couldn’t have been older than 10. Even hummed, smiled as he handed it back over, kissing Isak’s temple chastely as they heard the front door creak.

Much like a moment in October, they jerked apart, Isak’s eyes wide as he moved swiftly toward the entryway. Even followed him quietly, leaning against the adjacent wall. Isak’s hands were stiff at his sides, and Even wanted to reach out and hold them, but-- the woman across from them was sort of-- that was his mother. This was his mother?

It was actually kind of… Even cringed to himself slightly, the only word coming to mind being _surreal._ He swallowed as he took in how alike they looked, her own blonde hair matching Isak’s to the root; and here Even was, secretly convinced that Isak had been coerced into bleaching it at some point. Her nose, even the dip in her cupid’s bow (not nearly as prominent, but _fuck_ ) matched his boyfriend’s. The only real, obvious differences were their heights and her eyes-- sort of stoney blue in comparison to Isak’s. She looked up at him carefully, confusion written across her cheekbones as he took a few slow steps forward.

“Hey, mom,” He breathed, like he was… Even cringed to himself again. Like his boyfriend was approaching a wild animal. “Are you doing alright? Your text--”

“I’m alright.” Her voice was shot, gravelly from the cold. “What are you…” She gestured around lazily, hand weighed down by the groceries wrapped in her grip. 

“You texted me someth-- It felt off, I just wanted to make sure things were okay.” He put his hands in the kangaroo pocket.

Her face pinched up, and Even was caught up again in how much of _Isak_ he saw in her nose. “A _week_ later?” Her voice was shrill, and Isak was visibly jarred for a moment. “What were you doing, checking to see if I’d destroyed our home?”

“No,” He said, voice defensive. “I was _worried_ about you, mom.”

“Well,” Her voice was somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, “I guess that’s more than your father ever offered me.”

He stiffened again, only taking a moment before muttering, “Okay. Do you… “ He gestured to the grocery bags, and his mother stuck one out gingerly, a small smile on her lips. He returned it a little more grateful than Even expected to see. It made him warm. 

He peered at Even for a moment, and it was at that point that she appeared to notice him as well.

“Oh,” Her eyes widened. “Excuse me,” she scooted past them, moving to drop her bag on the counter. “I’m so sorry, who--”

“Even,” he said, trying to maintain _some_ sort of jovial expression. “I’m, ah, Isak’s--” His eyes wandered, and Isak’s chin jerked. “Isak’s boyfriend.”

“Oh!” The exclamation bounded off the walls, and Isak jumped again. Even furrowed his eyebrows, eyeing Isak with a _what’s wrong_ before his mother was speaking again. “I’m so sorry, you probably didn’t want to see that. It’s so nice to meet you. After that one night at the church, I was sort of surprised--”

“Mom,” Isak muttered from the kitchen, and she whipped a glance at him, furrowing her brow when he shook his head slowly. Even raised his own brow at his boyfriend, unable to meet his eyes. 

“What?” She asked, genuinely confused as she stepped toward the counter to unbag her groceries. “What’s wrong?” Even leaned against the frame of the entryway to the kitchen, not masking his own curiosity as Isak shook his head.

“Just a weird night.” He shrugged. His mother dropped it, but that doesn’t mean Even would. He opened his mouth to comment, but as his mother opened the fridge, Isak made quiet strides to his boyfriend and gripped his forearm. “When we met at the bench after you sent me that _soliloquy,_ " His tone was light, almost teasing because he halfway expected it to shake Even.

It did, but. Not in the way Isak anticipated.

“You were with your _parents?”_ Even hissed, catching the attention of the younger boy’s mother. 

“Hm?” She poked her head out of the fridge, eyes latching onto their grip on each other before tilting back up. “Everything okay?”

“We’re fine, mom, um,” Isak swallowed. “Even was saying he has a presentation due in the morning, and getting back uptown takes almost an hour by tram,”

“Oh, okay.” She sighed, completely believing him. “Thank you for stopping by, sweetie.” She smiled sweetly (if not a little bitter, as well), never moving towards them as Isak gestured toward the entryway for them to leave. 

__

#####

“Was that…” He swallowed. “Was that what you wanted out of that?” Even asked slowly, arm wrapped around Isak as the swayed with the movement on the tram. The other boy had been relatively quiet since they left, only moving to adjust himself in his boyfriend’s arm as they made their way uptown.

Isak shrugged. “I don’t think it was a good idea. It was weirder seeing her than I thought. I was more than happy to leave.” He sighed, another little shrug making Even’s arm jump with him. “I don't know if she actually… wanted to see me. In her text she did. Maybe she was, like.” He took a moment, trying to find the word. 

“Having an episode?” The older boy asked, trying to keep his voice casual. It's not like this sort of language was new to him, anyway-- maybe it was more of an effort to show Isak it didn't have to be a taboo. 

Isak nodded shortly, like he wasn't sure. 

“Well, you look _exactly_ like her,” Even nudged his shoulder, earning a disenchanted snort from the younger boy. “I mean it. _Wow.”_

“I heard that for a long time, I thought I grew out of it.” He smiled something more like a grimace. Even pecked at his temple. 

“Wish I could have seen some more of those photos,” He wasn’t _really_ sure if he was teasing the other boy or not, but he ran with it when Isak scoffed into his shoulder. “You were an awfully cute child.”

Isak took a moment to reply. “Never say that to me again.” He looked up, eyes wide in feigned horror. “That was creepy as hell, man.”

_“What?”_ Much like in the house earlier, Even’s little chime in English got Isak’s smile to reach his eyes.

“Fucking… calling baby-me _cute._ ”

“You…” Even widened his eyes. “You… What…”

They stayed that way for a moment, but guess who’s better at staring contests. 

[Isak shifted after a moment, completely giving in under the smile stretching across Even’s face.](https://68.media.tumblr.com/ddae8aba0016eab9f602d9bbbb7b0e53/tumblr_ohm9jwqMs21vjl7c5o6_400.gif)

“Can I ask something?” Even leaned a little closer, waiting for Isak turn his gaze up and let their noses bump.

“Hm?”

“Were you with your parents when you came to get me, that night?” 

Isak raised his eyebrows, smile fading just a touch. “Kinda hoped you would drop that.”

“Not a chance.” He smiled. For a moment, there was no helping it; the arm around Isak’s shoulder squeezed him a little closer, bringing them in a closed kiss that-- okay, Isak wasn't typically one for PDA. That was just a fact for them. It was fine. So when he _did_ respond wholly, Even was _not_ wasting the opportunity. 

What was meant to be chaste only took a tip of his head to have the younger boy take a shaky breath, his own coming up under Even’s and wrap under his shoulder. He was barely able to trace his boyfriend’s lip with his tongue before Even was moving up to track little kisses across his cheek, making him whine in the back of his throat.

“We’re in public,” Even murmured in his ear, much like Isak had done to him in the past. He seemed to recognize it, too, as he leaned back to give Even a mock-glare.

“That's a dick move,” He laughed lightly, knocking his knuckles into the older boy’s shoulder when Even raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Oh my _god--_ ”

“For real, babe,” The older boy whispered, the conversation suddenly private. “Were you with your parents? It's fine, I was just… curious.” 

“Yeah,” Isak breathed easily, maybe a little winded. Even bookmarked it for later. “They invited me to this church thing, my dad was pretty serious that I go, so.” He shrugged. “Didn't really matter. I had other plans.” 

Even squinted lightly, swaying with the other boy as the tram slowed to a stop. “Guess I did, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*old photos ;)_
> 
> now like listen i know that interaction was awkward and short & it was supposed to be that way bc i'm gonna bring it up again later...
> 
> i hope you enjoyed, though.
> 
> find me [here on tumblr.](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)


	4. how to: love (his) ribcages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _prompt: if you're comfortable writing this then maybe Isak struggling with his body and feeling down about it,[...]_
> 
> !! i loved loved loved this prompt. 
> 
> p.s. i will write absolutely anything ;) just as a preface, though: i am/always have been sort of chubby, and writing this was challenging because isak is, well. like. very thin and lanky imho... but i _loved_ writing it.
> 
> [find me here!!](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)

Even had no idea what he was talking about. 

Isak decided that almost three weeks ago. 

Dude wasn’t like completely losing it, that’s not what Isak meant -- he meant that, like. Okay, look. Just.

He. _Ugh._

Isak looked up into the mirror, washcloth still covering the bottom half of his face. His brows were pulled together in what was either mild irritation or confusion, his own reflection seeming foreign after a few moments of squinting. 

It was Friday, damnit. Just let him live.

Still, though. Just because he grimaced at himself in the mirror long enough for his boyfriend to notice it, just because he would sometimes pinch at his stomach and arms, just because he didn’t eat quite as often didn’t mean shit. It didn’t. 

Even seemed to think otherwise. And, y’know, okay, he does know Isak like the back of his hand. It’s not like he’s just coming in with wild accusations about-- okay. 

Isak isn’t insecure. 

“Sort of like you weren’t gay?” Even pressed, looking up from under his lashes, chin pressed into Isak’s diaphragm as they lied in bed. Isak huffed, dropping his head back against the pillow. He could feel the older boy smirk against his skin.

“It is almost midnight, boy,” Isak carded his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “You’re stressing me out.”

“You know the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem.” His lips never left the other boy’s skin. Isak definitely wasn't shivering. Jesus. 

“Congratulations,” He swallowed. “You sound like Noora more than Noora does.”

That got Even to snort out a laugh which, okay, alright, Isak couldn't hide his shudder that time. “Fuck you,” Even teased, his voice airy as he-- fuck.

“Is that an offer?” Isak wasn't sure (he was, but that's beside the point) why all the breath left his body, fingers shaking slightly as he eyed the other boy. Even was pressing little kisses to his stomach and, for a moment, Isak wasn't sure if he heard him. 

Until Even hooked a finger in his waistband. “It can be.”

His eyes blinked open, suddenly remembering he was definitely getting ready for school three minutes ago. 

He dropped the washcloth from his face and combed his hair back with his fingers, sighing for a second at how _deep _his ribcage was set in his torso.__

___Whatever,_ he thought, grabbing his shirt from the other end of the counter and pulling it over his head. He'd deal with it later. _ _

_____ _

#####

Later was apparently the same week, much to his chagrin.

“You're so pointy.” Even was joking, squeezing his hips from behind as he waited for Isak to unlock the door to the apartment. 

“Yes, thank you,” He muttered. Maybe a little too sharply. “I'm like. A spider. I know.” He replaced his keys in his pocket, shrugging off his coat and shoes at the door. He tugged his beanie a little farther over his ears as he watched Even do the same. 

“A spider?” The smile on Even’s lips made the younger boy want to squirm. “Maybe more like a famished kitten.”

“A…” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry?”

The other boy tapped the end of his nose, wrapping his arms around Isak’s hips and tugging him closer. Isak's own hands traveled up his arms, eventually settling on the curves between his shoulders and neck. 

He could hardly register Even’s movements before he was leaning in, [brushing their noses together](https://68.media.tumblr.com/d5a7bbd6d43e498b9f870b632537c810/tumblr_oh9088Mx4Q1qkxrhdo3_540.gif) and making his thoughts blur together. Even’s eyes crinkled when Isak tipped his own chin back, doing that dumb thing where he silently begs for it. Maybe a little less subtle than he was aiming for, because Even got the message _every time._

Whether or not he chose to oblige, well. 

He peppered kisses along his cheekbone instead, like he knew Isak _loved_ but would never admit to. He could only tell by the little whine, the itty-bitty _hnn_ noise in the back of the other boy’s throat. 

“Baby,” he whined, and Even smiled against his temple. 

“See,” he murmured, “You're all soft. Like a cat.”

Isak's fingers stiffened against his shoulders for a moment as he whispered, “Still pointy.”

“Okay, sure,” Even pressed another kiss to his temple, tugging him closer to lay Isak's head on his shoulder. “It's a cozy pointy, though.”

“Cozy?” He mumbled against his neck, arms properly wrapping around his shoulders. 

“Isak, I don't know if you know this,” Even tugged at his shirt in an effort to hold him closer. “But you are _great_ for cuddling.”

With that, Isak felt a peculiar bubbling in his chest. The younger boy was never going to tell him what that meant. He smiled against his neck, a small huff getting out to give him away. 

After that, Isak started to realize how weird he was about his own body. He couldn't remember the last time he wore sleeves (Even did, but that's not the point). He almost always had something on his head because something was always wrong with his hair. He wore layers to keep his limbs from looking scrawnier, had absentmindedly mastered the idea of wearing thick clothing. Rolling up the sleeves to make his arms thicker above the elbow, neglecting to take off his jacket in other people’s homes. Little things he didn't really think about doing that saved him from _actually_ thinking about why he was doing it. 

It's not like Even made him insecure, that's something he established with himself pretty quickly. He liked all these features on his boyfriend; his skinny elbows, ribs that poked out of his skin as he lied on his back. The guy had legs for _eons,_ too. Like. Damn. 

Isak loved it, would sort of silently worship it in the night time when he couldn't keep his fingers to himself. Maybe that's why Even thought he was “great for cuddling,” because he never stopped squeezing his hips and pulling them closer together because he _loved_ how sharp Even felt against him, how soft his skin was overtop bones and sinews of muscle that made him warm as _fuck_ too.

It was when he was openly staring at Even, the older boy holding the hem of his shirt in his teeth while trying to fasten his jeans, it dawned on him that he could never do that. He actually sort of hated his own stomach. 

Damnit. 

__

#####

“Jonas?”

“Hey, man,” the other boy greeted him from his own adjacent locker, barely looking up to greet Isak. “What’s up?”

He sighed, adjusting his hair under his snapback. “This is gonna sound weird.”

“Uh,” Jonas laughed, glancing over at his friend as he pulled and replaced different books. “I _promise_ nothing is going to be weirder than that conversation we had about Ida. Like. Ever. You’re fine.”

“Ida?” He furrowed his brow, watching as Jonas hold still to meet his eyes with a silent, _dude._

_Oh._ Jesus. “Oh my-- I fucking-- Goodbye, Jonas.” He dug his palms into his eyes as Jonas let out a thick laugh in the middle of the hallway, earning them a few confused glances. 

“Do you want to go to the canteen?” He jerked his shoulder in a gesture to the door past Isak, who nodded.

“That’s chill.”

“I feel like that’s every other sentence you say,” Jonas laughed again as they pushed past the glass.

“What’s the other one?” He asked lightly, raising an eyebrow as his friend pursed his lips.

“I think it’s just ‘fuck off,’” He squinted, as though he actually had to think about it, but Isak saw the humor in his eyes. “You’re not gonna like, tell me you’re straight or something, right?” Jonas laughed, elbowing his friend. “That’d be a bigger--”

“Can you _shut_ up?” Isak elbowed him back, toothy grin giving him away. “I was literally only going to ask if you’d ever had, like… Felt weird about how you looked.”

Jonas pursed his lips. “Uh? I mean, yeah, but that’s normal, I think. Like, sometimes I feel weird about my eyebrows and how short my fingers are?” He flipped his hands over, clenching his fists before looking back at Isak. “Why, what's going on?”

“Nothing, I was just wondering.” He shrugged, turning his chin down to his shoes as they walked along. “I dunno. I've just been feeling weird, lately. Don't worry about it.”

Jonas raised an eyebrow, but didn't push it. And you know. Maybe that was what Isak needed. 

However, this was also the same guy that also actively joked about how tall and lanky his friend was -- maybe it was more a dig because Jonas was shorter than him, or something, but. 

It wasn't just Jonas. Magnus had taken little digs at him about his goddamn ears, for example, and even how skinny his legs were. Mahdi, on multiple occasions, had just called him straight up ugly (out of spite, who knew). 

He didn't recognize it before, and part of him trusted that these were his friends and they were _joking._ But another part looked at himself in the mirror every morning and slowly came to recognize that his own gaze was scornful. Another part of him believed what they were saying. 

He didn't like glancing at his reflection in windows and tried to avoid taking pictures of himself, and maybe he wasn't aware of it before but the only real selfies he'd kept on his phone were because Even was in them too. 

Isak swallowed, adjusting his hat again before waving his friend of from the canteen and making a jog to the bathroom, wanting to-- okay. The aim wasn't to ruin his day, but that's sort of what happened. 

Standing in the bathroom with his fingers poking at the jut of his chin and the curve of his nose wasn't exactly a good way to make him feel better about himself. He tugged at his sleeves, thankful for the layers that made him look maybe just a tad thicker.

But even as the bell chimed and he could hear everyone filing towards their classes, he couldn't look away. Not even the vibrations from his phone could pull his glare because for _some reason,_ Isak was overwhelmed by how much he hated his chin. 

“Hello?” He said quietly, listening to the receiver pop from the other person’s breathing.

“Hey, babe,” Even was smiling. He could hear it. “I know you have a free period, do you wanna get out of here?”

#####

Even had noticed.

At some point or another, he caught on. Maybe that’s why he teasingly asked, “What, watching your figure?” after Isak didn’t respond to his breakfast offer. Maybe that’s why he furrowed his brow when Isak didn’t reply to _that,_ either. Maybe that’s why he asked, “Are you actually doing that?” And then pursed his lips, brow still furrowed, when Isak lazily shook his head. Maybe that’s why he (xx).

Maybe he heard Isak huffing about it in the bathroom the following morning. The younger boy couldn’t put a date on it, but apparently Even _knew,_ otherwise he wouldn’t be quietly asking Eskild, “Has Isak ever joked about how he feels about himself?” At 7:00 in the morning, completely unaware of the younger boy situated just around the corner of the kitchen. He heard Eskild hum, maybe a little confused, before replying,

“Maybe he has. I don’t know. If he has, it was passed off as one of those teenage self-deprecating jokes, you know?” Eskild shrugged. “You know him. He’s pretty good about passing things off.”

“Yeah,” Even muttered. Isak watched as he rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes on the linoleum. “That’s… Kind of the problem. He’ll never own up to it if he’s being serious.”

Eskild nodded thoughtfully, spoon hanging from his lips. “Maybe you have to work it out of him. You’re pretty good at that.”

__

#####

In the beginning-- the second beginning, after the night at the church and when Isak pulled Even into his arms, after they woke up and had a pretty fateful conversation, they’d made a pact.

To fucking _talk_ about shit. 

To fucking _mention it_ when they were off, to let the other know like, hey, just let me be. To _say something_ when they needed something. To _be honest_ when something wasn’t working. To fucking _talk about things,_ because, if they were being honest, both of them knew that a lack of communication is one of the biggest reasons things were so messy in the first round of their relationship. So they made a pact. And they took it pretty seriously. 

But now, Isak was sitting in his room as his boyfriend took a shower down the hall, innards twisting and turning because he couldn’t fucking figure out how to say he’s uncomfortable in his own skin.

Okay, realistically, he knew he could just say that and it’d be over with. Because now Even _knows_ he’s off kilter. It would be a _great time_ to own up to it, but listen. 

His boyfriend had some pretty… interesting dreams. Even’s fantastic habit of going days without taking his medication and proceeding to make up for it over the course of three days led to some, uh… well, it was interesting.

Of course that kind of habit fucked with his head. Isak had made attempts to break him of it, get him on a regular schedule, but every time he tried to lay off the monitoring, Even slipped again. So Even’s dreams got pretty fucked. 

A pretty prominent instance was when he’d scared Isak awake in the middle of the night-- not intentionally, like, Even had started having some sort of… Isak didn’t really know. It looked like a panic attack, but the younger boy wasn’t exactly one to diagnose those sorts of things. Regardless, physically shaking Even out of him and then holding him for hours on end while Even made efforts to calm down had both of them pretty shaken.

The point is that when Even’s dreams get more colorful than either of them care to acknowledge, Even’s demeanor was compromised for days on end. This was one of those weeks. 

Even’s sour week didn’t need to be accentuated by the fact that suddenly the guy he shares a bed with was wishing he just-- if he could fucking _peel his skin off_ or something--

Fuck this. Whatever.

Even didn’t need this when he was dealing with his own shit. Stuff Isak tried to ease the pressure from, right? So how could Isak ease that pressure if he only added to it with his own problems?

Conflict settled. He wasn’t mentioning this.

__

#####

Just kidding. He had to say something.

Not because he wanted to talk about it. Because he didn't like the idea of Even thinking there was something wrong.

Which he clearly did. When Isak was, admittedly, scared of hanging on to his boyfriend for too long out of concern that he'd notice how sharp his shoulders and wrists were, Even caught on that Isak was off. And, if Isak had _any_ talent for recognizing body language, it was becoming pretty apparent that Even thought it was _his_ fault. 

Which was on the very, very opposite end of the spectrum. And exactly why Isak had to figure out how to start that conversation without making Even sound like the bad guy. Especially when he’s _not._

Glaring at himself in the mirror wasn’t going to fix it, but he was definitely hoping for some inspiration while he pulled at the skin on his stomach and jammed his thumbs in the dips of his ribs. 

Maybe if he could just…

He prodded at his stomach, pushing hard enough to get three fingers beneath his ribcage and-- okay. He had no idea where he was going with that. He couldn’t fucking break his ribs out of his body, what the fuck?

He ran a palm down his face.

_Hey, Even,_ he tilted his head, squinting at his reflection. _This has nothing to do with you. I just hate every bone in my body. Sorry, man._

He blinked as he leaned forward. _Hey babe. I want to pull off the skin off my flesh and start over. Maybe without all the fucking angles and-- fucking--_ He scrubbed at his eyes, finding his own brows furrowed in a frustrated glare. _My elbows feel like drill bits and I see the bruises my knees leave on your hips. I know my knuckles and chin feel like fucking brass when they touch you. I’m fucking sorry. I hate it, too._

He palmed at his eyes again, pretending not to notice the moisture left behind.

Why couldn’t he keep shit like this to himself? Like… Damn. It always had to pour over so others could see. Like when his fucking dad left and Jonas had to actually corner him in the courtyard to get Isak to tell him “what his goddamn problem was” over the last couple days. Like when he jumped Mahdi at Emma’s party, when those three were worried about him for weeks on end until it boiled out of his control -- now this, too, in which he didn’t realize how much he hated how he looked until a compilation of snide comments ruined his life over the course of a month.

_Well,_ he pursed his lips in, blinking slowly as he pressed a finger to the bruise on his hip -- Jesus, he had no idea why Even liked them. They felt like riverbed rocks. _Guess it happens that way every time, though._

__

#####

“Have you ever listened to The Neighbourhood?”

“What?” He glanced up from his laptop, Sana’s lips pursed. Magnus glanced up from his own paper to give Isak a confused eye. 

“Is that a no?” She asked, somehow smug in this situation. She always was, but this time it made him uncomfortable.

“Oj,” Was about the only thing he could come up with, which left her with an answer. 

“You should,” Magnus chimed in from his seat adjacent to them. “They've got one song, uh… something about the weather. I can't remember. It reminds me of you and Even.” 

So, yeah, guess what he did that night. 

It kind of scared him for a second, wondering why Magnus thought lyrics about them being too cold to understand each other _reminded_ Magnus of something he casually, sort of constantly referred to as _"Evak."_

But it was just a song, he decided, shutting his laptop quietly. When he buried his nose between Even’s shoulder blades, breathing in all the warmth he could, he was sort of hit with _do my shoulders dig into him when we’re flipped?_ and definitely wasn't tired anymore.

Admittedly, he was too comfortable too move, but that didn’t stop his mind from spinning again. Goddamnit. 

So he lied there for an hour. Tried to make it stop, clinged to the pattern of his boyfriend’s breathing and soft shifting, but nothing made him stop swinging between _am I hurting him right now?_ and _he wouldn’t push you away if you were, so you have to._

Peeling himself off was harder than he expected it to be -- they weren’t actually stuck together, but damn, Even was _comfortable._

He pulled open his laptop again, turning the screen to the dimmest setting possible, and, well. 

By morning, he'd discovered that the songs _Cry Baby, A Little Death,_ and _Flawless_ made his stomach hurt in a way he didn't care for. He poked at his stomach and pinched his elbows and when Even woke up, his first words to him were “Dude, have you ever heard West Coast?”

Gravelly, the older boy asked, “Lana Del Rey's?”

“What?” Isak laughed, “You listen to-- okay, we’re talking about that later. I'm talking about the one by The Neighbourhood.”

Even squinted his eyes in suspicion. “How long have you been awake?”

Isak paused, mid-swallow when he realized he was taking too long to reply. “Uh, why?” _Please don't--_

Even reached up, tracing the pad of his thumb underneath his boyfriend’s eyes. It took a moment. “Bad night?” He asked quietly. Isak swallowed hard enough for Even to notice, he guessed, because the other boy was sitting up and facing him carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Do my shoulders hurt you?” He asked before he could stop himself, and immediately recognized he didn't want the answer when,

“Your-- Is that what kept you up? Dude, I love every bone in your body.”

“No, no,” Isak shook his head, making Even jerk his thumb back. “When we’re, like, spooning. Do my shoulders, back here,” he reached over to gently run his fingers up Even’s shoulder blades, watching him shiver for a moment. “Do they dig into you?”

The older boy looked confused for a second, searching his face before giving him what Isak was _sure _had to be a calculated answer, because why would Even be honest about th-- _because we have a pact. We have a goddamn pact, Isak.___

__“Isak, they're shoulders? Of course they do? It's not _bad,_ babe. Think of it like this, here,” Even pushed lightly on his chest, making him roll down to his back to Even could lie halfway on top of him, forearms tucked under the other boy’s back. “Think, like, if you had wings or something. That's where they'd come out of your back.”_ _

__“Do you think they'd hurt you?” He asked quietly, having no idea why he was pushing back. Even furrowed his brow._ _

__“What’s wrong?” And it’s not like Even was opening floodgates when he asked, but Isak sort of felt like one._ _

__“I-- I don't know. It just weirded me out to think that you might not be saying anything if I'm making you uncomfortable.” _I don't like having this many edges._ “Like, when my shoulders hit you, or our knees knock together too hard, or if my chin digs into your shoulder too deep, or something.” _I don't want to be this branch-y. I don't want to dig in and sting anything like I sting myself.__ _

__Even was searching his eyes a little too long, and Isak started to shift uneasily. He didn’t _want_ to talk about this, and if his efforts weren’t obvious, then maybe blowing it off with a joke about how Even does that to _him_ would remedy the situation. So, he swooped in with a lackluster smile on his face, trying to string it together when Even opened his mouth again (which he _apparently_ had a talent for, given how often he just. Cut off Isak’s train of thought)._ _

__“Isak, I _like it_ when your bony ass chin hits my shoulder. Don’t start, like, shrinking away _like you’re doing right now,_ ” He tightened his arms around the other boy, who was making small efforts to move out from under him. “Because you think you’re making me uncomfortable, or whatever. If you were, I would tell you.”_ _

__“So, right now,” Having exactly zero idea where the bravery came from, “My ribs aren’t bugging you. They aren’t poking you and making you want to move.” He didn’t ask it as a question, which didn’t take Even aback in the slightest as a little smile turned his lips up._ _

__“What,” He asked after a _little too long,_ immediately making Isak suspicious because he better fucking _not,_ “You mean… These ribs?”_ _

__Like some sort of goddamn lightning bolt, Even had yanked his arms out from underneath his boyfriend and dug his fingernails into the bottom curve of the younger boy’s ribcage, earning him a disgruntled squeal. Isak shoved at his arm but, listen, Even was stronger than he looked._ _

__Isak _knew._ He _knew_ he wasn’t getting out of this easy, if the way his boyfriend’s hands somehow easily pressed him back into the mattress was any indication. It was ridiculous. Isak couldn’t even kick Even away because the guy wasn’t really even laying on him._ _

__But, like. Ten minutes later when the only thing Isak could do was let out trembling sighs, he definitely wasn’t complaining._ _

_____ _

#####

Days had followed where they didn’t address it again. Almost a week, actually, but Isak should have known that mentioning it _one time_ was going to get him off the hook.

“What’s new, honeydew?” He said it lightly. They were in the kitchen. Even was leaning against the table, phone in a palm. Isak had been sitting on the counter, fingers pinching at the skin around his ankle. 

His head shot up. “What?”

“I see you,” Even gestured with his phone to Isak’s hand. The younger boy jerked it away, making an effort to look casual as he laid it across his lap. Even huffed a laugh. “Babe, it’s okay. I just wanna know.”

Isak squinted. “Seriously?”

When Even nodded, his squint intensified. “Why? I mean, like, I don’t want you to feel bad about you, suddenly, because, like,”

“What?” Even cut him off, sly smile etching into his features. “Are you gonna say that the things you don’t like about yourself are the things you _do_ like on me?” 

Isak’s expression turned nonplussed, posture relaxing in mock-exasperation. “Stop knowing me like-- dude, that was creepy.”

“Am I right, then?” Even set his phone down on the table, standing up and moving towards Isak in one fluid motion. The other boy gave him a lopsided frown. “Yeah? Because you and I are built pretty similarly, Isak, like--”

Isak swung his ankles out, landing them around Even’s hips to pull him closer. “Don’t start that. I think I’ve made it pretty clear by now that I am obsessed with your body.”

Even didn’t-- he-- it’s not like flustering the dude was easy. Let’s put it that way. So when Isak _did_ make him blush, even the tiniest bit, like he did _right then,_ it was a good day. Everything else was cancelled. 

“Okay,” He breathed, “That’s not where I was going, but…” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, and Isak smiled, okay, he did. Sorry. 

“Where were you going, then? Were you gonna try to convince me that because I like how lean, and, ta-- Even,” He raised his eyebrows. “We’re in the kitchen.”

The older boy had hooked his hands underneath Isak’s thighs, gently tugging him closer as he spoke. “And?” He murmured against his cheek, earning him a snort from the other boy.

“Listen, you fuck, oh my _god,_ ” Isak hissed, gently pushing on his collar to try and _actually_ talk about this (this was sort of a now or definitely-not-in-the-near-future thing for him), but it looked like Even wasn’t having it. He was the one to start the conversation, damnit, at least let-- _“Babe--”_

“You’re gonna tell me that you like my hips, and my shoulders, and that you love all the ridges of my spine, all that good stuff, right? But you don’t like that stuff on yourself?” He was mumbling this against the younger boy’s pulse point, which was fucking tearing through his resolve like a hot knife. 

“Y-yeah, but,”

“If I didn’t like those things about _my_ self, what would you tell _me?”_

Isak paused, eyes blinking open as he actually nudged his boyfriend away. 

“Dude,” He whispered, grabbing Even’s cheeks to meet his gaze. “Dude. Don’t play like that.”

“What if I told you that I hated how pointy my own elbows are, that I didn’t like--”

“Shh, Even,” Isak toughened his grip on the other boy’s cheek. “Jesus, what? Like, I know you-- you’ve never--” He swallowed, maintaining eye contact as their foreheads bumped together. “Don’t even say that kinda stuff, man. Nobody’s perfect but you are _damn_ close.”

“See, now, if you and I look _this_ similar,” Even leaned a little closer, apparently completely unable to keep his lips unattached from Isak. He pressed their mouths together, still whispering against Isak’s cupid bow, “How you can you say that about me, and then not believe it about yourself?”

Isak’s lips turned down, but Even wasn’t letting him get away with it, exchanging small kisses until it melted away and his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Because I’m gangly and weird, like, I feel like I serrated knife,” He mumbled, unashamed as he tilted his cheek up. “I don’t know. I feel like I don’t fit in my skin.”

“Seem to fit pretty well, to me,” Even was murmuring, ghosting his lips along Isak’s cheekbone as he spoke. He shifted his hands up, tugging Isak further from the counter as he leaned him back against the cabinets. The other boy sighed, his own fingers petting at Even’s shoulder blades. “I don’t know why you think you’re so pointy, look at you,” A trickle of laughter escaped as he squeezed the back of Isak’s thighs, eliciting a squeal from him. “You’re, like… the softest thing…”

“Fuck off,” Isak let out a huff of laughter, giving Even a proper kiss as he tried to sit up properly, but… Yeah, guess who still wasn’t having it.

“You’re gonna tell me about this more.” Isak could feel his breath in his ear as one hand came up to cradle the back of his head, the other continuing to lightly tug on his thigh. He slunk down, letting himself be pliant because Even was _warm_ and _soft_ and if he could just drown in it right there, he _would._ “You’re gonna mention it when you’re feeling awful about yourself so that I can _help you,_ deal?”

Isak swallowed, tilting his head to the side to meet Even’s eyes, which were… somehow, they held a lot more weight than his voice alluded to, and it made Isak’s heart palpitate. He nodded shortly, half-mumbling, “How are you going to help? It’s not like grounding techniques are going to make me stop hating myself.”

Even smiled, something warm and soft as his eyes crinkled up, the toughness fading with it. He tugged Isak’s hair, making him tilt his head away so he could lightly press another kiss to his pulse point, feeling Isak _definitely_ shiver in his grip.

“I can think of a way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: this is a drabble series!!  
> me: drops a 5k fic
> 
> if you _need_ answers about the "the conversation we had about Ida" lmk, it's not relevant at ALL but like... if you _need_ it, i have answers.
> 
> **fr tho** feedback gets me out of bed in the morning. love you  & see u soon <3
> 
> [find me here!!](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com) you can send prompts/be my friend/talk about Skam w/ me/etc... ;)


	5. how to: tell him "i love you"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again - i missed two chem labs & have been busy trying to make them up without it looking like i was asbent ;p it's a lot more time consuming than i thought. which. is why this came a little later than i hoped it would.
> 
> i have a lot of ideas rolling around for this, but if you ever wanna see something here, [i'm still @lachesisrn on tumblr!](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)
> 
> anyway, here are some babs with too many words in their throats.

It came in waves, much like almost every other aspect of their relationship.

For Even, the first time was a moment way too near and dear to him to ever explain to someone who wasn’t there. 

He wasn’t gonna lie-- he didn’t think about, like, _what happens after we leave this pool?_ when they were _in the pool._ Did he know it was freezing outside? Yes. Did it occur to him that they weren’t going to have time to dry off regardless of their interruption? 

...No.

Climbing out of a basement, fucking _soaked_ and sort of uncomfortable by that point, was not a walk in the park. Pulling Isak to his feet and breathlessly asking if the kollektivet was still open to him, seeing Isak’s roll his eyes exaggeratedly and return with a blushing smile, and swallow as he nodded jerkily was… _That_ was in a walk in the park. Through a park he never wanted to leave. 

Despite the air sinking into every pore of their skin, they couldn’t stop exchanging small kisses and giggling and sputtering and -- honestly, the whole thing is kind of hazy. Even remembers how warm Isak’s lips were in comparison to everything else. And it stayed that way until the got back to the apartment, where Emma and Sonja had blessedly already left, where Eskild and Noora were absent, where Linn was in the furthest tomb of sleep, where they could continue to laugh into each other’s mouths in the doorway as Isak’s fingers carded through the older boy’s hair and Even couldn’t let go of the younger boy’s hips for a _second._

In Isak’s room, they quickly realized Even had exactly nothing to change into. And. Isak would never admit it to anyone, like, ever, not even to their friends at a wedding that didn’t seem so weird to think about anymore, but he was pretty happy to jump at the chance for Even to borrow something, anything to sort of further establish what was happening. The older boy could barely comment on it before Isak was tossing a shirt at him, barely blinking as he stripped his own layers.

“You live another 15 minutes from here,” Isak was still a little breathless (but maybe not from the ride), “You’re not going home soaked like that.”

Even furrowed his brow. “Who said I’m going home?”

“I did,” Isak matched his playful tone, taking the four steps back toward him to swipe a finger at his nose. “In the _morning.”_

Even let out a sputtering laugh, lightly shoving at him. 

The bed was so warm that Even was convinced Cloud 9 existed in this boy’s bedroom. Isak was pressed against him at all angles -- in their knees and ankles, a shy hand slipping underneath the back of his shirt to trace his shoulder blades, his nose poking at his collarbones, Isak was sealed against him and Even wasn’t about to let him move, either. After wrapping his own arms (one around his neck, the other underneath of him to find the dip in the base of his spine) around the younger boy, it hit him for a moment. And he was gonna be damned if it be the last time.

 

The first time it hit Isak was actually the following evening -- after Sonja called, after Eskild beat on the door, after Even asked if he could fucking _stay in here with him forever,_ what the fuck, it beat him in the chest. 

Their noses were sort of smushed together as they laid in silence, just breathing each other in when one of Even’s fingers came up to trace his cheekbone. He knew the older boy felt him shiver, too, because he felt his lips brush his own as he smiled. 

It hit his own lips, his mouth opening to--

He couldn’t.

Isak’s hand came up to cup Even’s cheek, first two fingers twirling a lock of hair. His chest was so warm, so fuzzy on the inside he was mildly surprised it didn’t stop his heart. 

“Lookin’ pretty perturbed over there,” Even murmured, breath ghosting across Isak’s lips and making him start. He felt Even smile again when he jolted. “You okay?”

“I’m… what?” Isak mumbled, sort of disoriented and surprised that Even understood him at all. The older boy wound his arm underneath Isak’s to push between his shoulder blades, pushing their mouths together. 

“Too big of a word for you?” He taunted, scratching his fingers gently. 

“No, you just,” Isak shifted forward to make it a real kiss, pressing their mouths together chastely. “Wasn’t expecting you. Were you watching me?” He gave him another little kiss, two, three, four before Even was letting out little huffs of laughter and using his other arm to pull their waists together. 

“C’mere,” His voice was muffled slightly against the other boy’s mouth. “C’mere. Was watching you breathe.”

“Oh my god,” Isak groaned, making little to no effort to _actually_ push Even away despite his hands stiffening up to do so. “You fucking sap.” 

The older boy hummed, his eyes crinkling as they met Isak’s earthy ones. From this proximity, Isak was fucking _positive_ he could see the other end the sky in Even’s eyes. It made his chest burn, and he felt it in his throat again as Even spoke.

“Listen, _elskling,”_ The older boy smiled against his lips, and Isak could see the way Even was eating up the blush across his cheeks. It didn’t help the ache in his chest, the burning in his throat, the fuzziness in his brain. “You bring it out in me.”

A fond smile peeled at Isak’s features as he mumbled, “You make me the same way, _søten.”_

Even snorted, tightening the arm around Isak’s waist and bringing up the other to seize his ribs, making Isak squeal. He actually did shove at Even that time, but he should have really guessed Even was a lot stronger than he looked. The older boy twisted them easily, throwing his knees to either side of Isak’s hips and pushing his chest down against the younger boy’s so that he could jerk his hands up to push and prod at his ribs.

Isak howled, pushed at Even’s shoulders and neck as he gasped and let out noises he’d vehemently deny for the rest of his life, trying to thrash his legs around to dissuade the older boy but _it wasn’t fucking--_

 _“Ple-ease! Oh my--”_ He was hissing, smacking at Even’s shoulders and wrenching his head away when Even buried his nose in the crook of it. He hooked his fingers in the other boy’s armpits, yanking upward to try and push him away, but _damnit,_ Even was _strong,_ “I will fucking _kill you--”_

“I’d like to see you _try.”_ Even matched him, forcing his fingers underneath Isak’s shirt and brushing up his stomach tantalizingly. The younger boy’s stomach caved, his throat humming behind sealed lips as he kept trying to jerk away. Even’s teeth bit into his throat as he smiled, “What? Want me to stop?”

Isak briefly considered just spitting it out, wondering if it would get the older boy’s fingers out of his ribs, but… Look. He wouldn’t be fooling anyone if he said he hated what was happening right now. His heart throbbed for a moment as he felt Even’s breath against his neck, and… Well. If he pretended to be upset at a lapful of (t)his boy just a little longer, was it really hurting anyone?

__

#####

The second time Even realized it, he had an armful of soft blond boy. In a kitchen. On a Saturday morning. _Alone._ And you’d be fucking right if he thought about saying it. You’d be right every day of the week. You’d be right every minute of that morning and every second of the night before.

Feeling reckless in their swaying embrace, the older boy just sort of _went for it_ and licked a broad stripe up Isak’s neck, stopping at the base of his jaw and just feeling Isak shiver before he laughed lightly in his ear.

“The fuck?” Isak had muttered, any thorniness in his voice completely diluted by his rosey smile. And that’s when Even felt it on his tongue. He pulled his mouth shut, swallowing harshly, and Isak caught it. “Wait, what? Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Like what, _elskling?”_ He played it off easily, tightening his arm around Isak as the younger boy leaned in his shoulder, resting his cheek. 

“Like…” Isak paused, pursing his lips out for a moment and shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

Even smiled again, pulling on the younger boy and bringing him in for a slow kiss. 

“Your eggs might be burning,” Isak mumbled, lips never leaving the other boy’s. One palm came to rest under the hem of Even’s shirt and thumbed lightly at the dimple in his spine. Even shook his head, mumbling back something about _i turned the burner off_ and making Isak smile as he gripped the back of his neck.

“Are we alright?” He asked after a moment, never letting up on his grip around Isak. “We good? No more back and forth?”

The other boy nodded, meeting his eyes (albeit lidded) to reassure him. “How many times have we gone back and forth?”

“Uh,” Even smiled, leaning their foreheads together as he leaned Isak back against the counter. “Ignoring me for days on end after we _smoke_ together, of all the intimate ways to begin a friendship?”

Isak’s eyebrows furrowed playfully. “I barely fucking knew you?”

“Ignoring me for a _week,_ making it so that I had to get you on the _tram,”_ He pressed on.

“You planned that?” His voice was a little incredulous, making Even huff. He opened his mouth to continue, but Isak cut him off. “Whatever,” He breathed in English, “All your little claims can’t quite be outweighed to completely dropping me after you broke up with your girlfriend.”

Even’s throat threatened to close again-- sort of how it did fifteen minutes ago when Isak first mentioned it-- so he tried to brush it off just as easily with an exasperated, “Oh my god, are you ever gonna let go of that?”

“It’s been like five days!” Isak’s eyebrows rose with his voice, and Even made quick efforts to quiet him with little coos in his ear as he tugged him closer.

“I was kidding,” He ran his fingers through Isak’s hair. “You know I l--” He stopped, throat _actually_ closing that time.

Isak hummed. “What do I know?”

He swallowed. “You know I was _kidding.”_

 

The second time the younger boy realized it was also a moment he was perfectly fine forgetting. So that’s what he tried to do.

They didn’t hold hands, didn't brush elbows, didn't knock into each other on their way to the Radisson. Their brush at KB had apparently gotten the message across. So they walked along easily, breathlessly, somewhat anxiously, mostly giddy towards Even’s _suite_ he’d apparently sought out online a few hours prior.

Both of them knew why they were going. Didn’t make the walk any steadier. 

Well, maybe for Isak-- because Even just seemed off the walls. But maybe that’s what was making his heart swell, too. 

Either way, Even picked up on it.

“You okay, _elskling?”_ He asked, toothy grin making Isak’s stomach sizzle. He nodded, trying to match the sort of fanaticism Even was trying to give him with his own smile. Even nodded, reaching over to squeeze his wrist. The other boy could tell the release was reluctant, and it made his chest _hurt,_ made it _burn_ and he almost said something.

He was sort of thankful he didn’t, the following morning. That was also the last time Even called him _“darling”_ like that, with his eyes crinkled and voice somehow _always_ out of breath around the word. Isak was thankful for that one, too. 

__

#####

The third time for Even was the first time it slipped.

It was half purposeful, half _fuck it,_ and he figured he better drop it now, so that it would never simmer in him like this again.

So that this feeling _in general_ would never simmer inside him again. 

(Realistically, he knew this wasn't going to go away for a while, but he wanted to pretend for a little bit.)

He was leaning against the sink in the bathroom, shivering despite the layers upon layers sticking to his skin, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and trying to pretend the moisture in his eyes, that the trembling in his lungs was from was from the heated air pouring in from the vents. He phone was propped in his right hand, thumb tapping like lightning as the other scrubbed at his eyelids. 

Everything stung. Fucking lit a match in his throat, left it there to cloud and burn out. 

He knew this was his fault.

_Fuck._

He dropped his phone on the counter, rubbing at his eyes and looking at the ceiling in aching dismay. 

What the fuck was he supposed to do? He knew he ruined it. He knew it was fucking over because his dumb ass, his stupid, selfish fucking self couldn’t let this work out. He couldn’t fucking blink without it hurting.

Isak was-- fuck. He didn’t want to say Isak was everything. He didn’t want Isak to mean so much so quickly. He didn’t want to depend so heavily on this boy he’d known for ten weeks, didn’t want to _need him_ as some sort of fucking life force because he _knew_ he was going to ruin it. 

The problem is that Isak _was_ everything. Isak was so goddamn important, and for what? For Even to go and pull the same stupid shit he always did, where he hurts people, where they run off and fucking hate him?

He ducked his head, scrubbing at his eyes again and letting out another trembling breath he refused to let turn into a sob.

Apparently the answer was yes.

If he fucking knew this was the answer, he shouldn’t have let himself fall so hard and he knew it. 

His skin crawled as he plucked his phone from the counter, opening up his messages to type hastily through clouded vision. 

_Kjære Isak._

Jesus fucking christ. 

_Nå sitter jeg der vi traff hverandre for første gang og tenker på deg. Snart er klokken 21:21._

Even palmed at his eyes again, fingers floating over the keyboard as he tried to decide what the _fuck_ to tell this boy. Fuck. His thumb touched down, hitting one character and that-- that was sort of it. He had no idea what to tell, him stuck on the fact that he wanted to tell him a _thousand things_ and, and… Wait. 

_Jeg har lyst til å si tusen ting til deg. Unnskyld for at jeg skremte deg. Unnskyld for at jeg såret deg. Unnskyld for at jeg ikke fortalte at jeg er_

His thumb shook for a moment. He hated it. He hated the word _bipolar._ It made him sound unstable and fucking nuts and--

He stopped himself, the thought that _Isak already thinks you are_ cementing itself on his optical nerve. Not that it helped. But maybe it made it less frightening to type, because what’s one more fucking word to make Isak hate him? To never want to talk to him again?

 _bipolar._ He typed each letter a little more pointedly than the last. _Jeg var redd for å miste deg. Hadde glemt at det ikke går an å miste noen, at alle mennensker er alene uansett. Et annet sted i universet er vi sammen i uendelig tid, husk det._

He blinked furiously, immediately deciding to ignore the droplets on his phone screen and the fact that one sentence took him almost four fucking minutes to type. 

In some fucking universe, one that Even is gut wrenchingly envious of, he and Isak probably _are_ together forever. Lying in his fucking bed, nothing but smiles and soft hoodies. And now he was standing in a bathroom. Typing an apology letter. To a boy that would never speak to him again.

A boy that he loved _so fucking much._

So, you know what? Did it matter if Isak _knew,_ if he was never going to talk to Even again?

 _Elsker deg._ He wrote, probably against his better judgement. He acknowledged that as he sent it. And then he watched Isak open the message, and when nothing indicated he was going to reply after a few minutes, Even stuffed his phone in his pocket and let himself cry into his palms.

 

Isak felt overwhelmed when it hit him. 

Exactly 19 hours later, Even’s eyes were roaming behind his eyelids in the low light of Isak’s room. He had the comforter pulled to his nose, had a lock of hair arcing over his forehead, hand his fingers clenching against the fabric. The only reason Isak knew he was awake was the older boy’s breathing, out of whack and in a stiff state of discomfort. 

It came in waves, much like almost every other aspect of their relationship.

“Even?” He whispered, almost afraid his voice would shock the boy. When his eyes peeled open, still peach and bloodshot, Isak felt one of his heartstrings split.

“Even?” He asked again, waiting for Even to turn and meet his eyes. He hummed in response once he got there. Isak’s heart slowed a little. “Can I…?” He reached a palm out, sort of shaky and uncertain as it hovered Even, who furrowed his brow in confusion before picking up what he wanted. He nodded once, sort of opening up the blanket and letting Isak scoot in next to him. 

Isak didn’t think the other boy realized exactly what he was after until he was tugging Even to his chest, hugging him close and kissing the top of his head. “I need to tell you something,” He murmured as Even got settled, letting out a shaky breath into the younger boy’s collarbone. “Can I?”

“Have you decided that you hate me?” Even’s voice was rockier than he meant it to be, and he felt Isak go stiff, which sort of reassured him that that _wasn’t_ what he meant.

“No?” Isak’s voice was a little scared. “Even, please, I, just-- Here, here,” He shifted down to meet him eye to eye and held his face in his palm, [and Even was reminded of their morning.](http://68.media.tumblr.com/1a624f0caff5e9787fa5987032b4115b/tumblr_oki0ooz9qN1vjgafeo9_500.gif) “Believe me when I tell you this, alright? I get-- I get what you’re freaked out about, it’s okay. But I need you to know something.”

“What is it?” He breathed, voice damp and tired. Isak swallowed as he held his gaze.

“Even, please believe me. I could never hate you," Their noses bumped gingerly. "I _love you,_ okay?”

If both their hearts jumped, the other wouldn’t know it. “I love you _so much.”_

Even leaned forward until their foreheads bumped together, the light at the end of the tunnel hidden at the back of Isak’s gaze. “I love you,” He breathed back. “I love you.”

__

#####

“Alright,” Even smiled, pecking the crown of Isak’s head. “I told my mom I’d meet her for lunch. See you?” He pointed a pinky at Isak, who scoffed a smile.

“Okay. See you.” He picked up a hand to wave, but Even only caught it and leaned in for an _actual_ peck.

Now, like, okay. It had been a bit. Isak still wasn’t, like, _used to_ being out there with PDA like this, and Even knew that. They were in the courtyard, standing with a couple of familiar faces that didn’t mind if they behaved that way, but…

Isak leaned into it anyway. Fuck it. 

“Okay,” Even breathed against his lips, smiling as Isak did. “Okay. Love you, baby.”

As he moved to step backwards, Isak’s eyes widened, desperately fighting a smile as someone (it was Magnus, for real) spluttered behind them. 

“Don’t do that,” Isak’s lips twitched upward, voice somehow embarrassed and teasing at the same time. Even smiled. 

“What, baby?” He tilted his head, watching Isak bite his lip in what was dissolving exclusively into embarrassment.

“Do _n--”_

“Love you!” The older boy called as he stepped further away.

“Fuck you,” Isak laughed, earning a laugh from a couple of the others, but Even was a breed of relentless.

“Love you!” He called again. Isak’s smile reached his eyes.

“Love you, too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u have thoughts... i'd love to hear them <3
> 
> multiple of you also asked to know what the whole Ida thing was about, so that's gonna be addressed in the next os, cool beans? i already have it all planned out. i gotchu fam. 
> 
>  
> 
> [find me here :)](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)


	6. how to: mortify your boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _"what about the boys teasing each other in public?"_
> 
> also known as: three times Even embarrassed Isak into oblivion, and one time Isak was kind of able to get him back. 
> 
> so, uh. life is in shambles. i'm stuck in a spot where i can't really fix it OR sleep at home, so these updates may be a little slower. i'm trying to stockpile on content in the event that things _really_ go south. i hope you'll be patient with me. i'm still ( & always will be) taking prompts, if anyone has any? [find me here, i don't bite.](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)

It took a long time to learn how to fuck with each other in public; what boundaries they had, what they didn’t care about, what pushed their buttons _just enough_ to get a ruffled glare and flushed cheeks. It was a lot more trial and error than anything else, but once they got it down…  
  
_They got it down._

Ohhh yes. And Even was the goddamn _master_ of making Isak falter at any given point. It didn’t matter if they were in bed or in front of their parents. Even was fucking _good_ at what he did.

Like, in Isak’s opinion, it was a little inappropriate how much Even prided himself on it. Even always fired back with “you’re the same way!” and it was… yeah. It shut the younger boy up pretty quick.  
  
“Listen, you,” Isak pinched his shoulder, earning a look of feigned shock from Even. “You’re kind of obsessed with it.”  
  
“I think I’m just obsessed with all the facial expressions you can make,” Even smiled, a little too toothy and a little too cheeky for Isak not to give him probably the fondest smile he’d ever seen. It made his stomach hurt. “Like that, for example.”  
  
Isak’s smile split further. “Shut up.”  
  
“Make me!”

It was a joke, but, ohoho, Isak certainly _did._

Even’s crowning moment was up for debate by many. All the ways he could make Isak splutter and blush, all the ways he could earn himself a choked glare or the deepest eye roll the other boy could muster as his his head slumped back. It was kind of a point of contention amongst their friends, and almost everyone had a different story to tell because it was _that often_ he was able to embarrass the other boy. He was kind of proud of it.  
  
Like, to the extent that he makes other people recount it, sorta thing. Like-- like, for example, iIf prompted (and _only_ when prompted) Jonas would be all too happy to indulge about the events of a pregame several weeks prior.

“Re--” He coughed into his elbow. “Sorry. Remember when Eskild had a bunch of his buddies over before we left for that party at Eva’s?”  
  
Isak’s face dropped, figuring it useless to try and extract himself from Even’s arm. They’d done this before. And he wasn’t getting out of it.  
  
“Why’d you gotta remind me?” He groaned, eyes rolling back. “Jesus, the fuck was his name? Andrew? Adrian?”

“Anders,” Even input helpfully, and Isak didn’t need to look at him to see the dumbass smile plastering his face.

“Anders! Yeah, yeah. You guys remember that?” He looked to Mahdi, who raised an eyebrow in question, and that was enough to set Jonas off, apparently.  
  
“Yeah! At Eva’s-- remember when she hosted the party at the end of winter break? We came here first, Isak really wanted to get out because Eskild had invited some others over… Yeah, yeah.”

And Jonas would dive in. Look, it wasn’t-- Isak didn’t--

It was Even’s fault. Straight up. He made it happen.  
  
Jonas would retell it in about five sentences, bless him, but it somehow wasn’t enough for Even. So this is what _actually_ happened, according to the older of the pair:

So, straight up, Isak wasn’t flirtatious unless he wanted to be. At least, that’s the way Even saw it. It didn’t mean other people didn’t flirt with him. It also means he didn’t encourage Isak not to flirt back.  
  
Guy never did, but it was still fun to see what it would take.  
  
So Eskild has somewhere around 6 or 7 of his own guests floating around the kollektivet as Even emerges from their bedroom to inform the boys at the front door that, unless they’re in for gratuitous coquetting _(“why do you talk like that?”)_ , they’d have to wait outside. Also, Isak wasn’t out of the shower yet, so he wasn’t hopeful they’d leave before the end of the week _(“why is he in the shower? it’s only si-- wait, don’t… answer that…”)_.

“How many friends does Eskild _have?”_ Magnus’s voice was indignant, somehow, as he planted himself on the arm of the sofa. Even shrugged, pointing at them before he tread down the hallway.

“I have no clue. Let me grab Isak. Ten minutes and we’re gone. Cool?” He didn’t wait for a reply before swinging around, light on his feet when he stepped back in the bedroom-- where Isak was pulling a shirt over his head, hair sort of damp and unruly.

“What? When did you--?” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder as Isak caught his eye.

“You didn’t lock the door when you left,” Isak said. He offered a lopsided smile, somewhere between a grimace and a smirk. “And, eh…apparently some people aren’t so keen on _knocking.”_

Even battled the grin threatening his lips, trying to take a moment before replying, “Who…”  
  
Isak pursed his lips into a thin line as he shook his head.

“Tall, dark hair. Uh. Can we go before he finds me again.”

Okay, this was too much.

“What, you didn’t invite him in?” He grinned, trying to raise an eyebrow to look shocked.

“No, what the fuck?” Isak furrowed his brows, looking a little horrified at his boyfriend. He swatted an arm out at him, which Even caught easily and pulled him into his chest He could tell he was joking, but _what the_... 

But, needless to say, that definitely wasn’t the end of Isak and… Anders, as he introduced himself later. They’d been about to leave, Mahdi with one foot out the door and Isak tugging a beanie over his head when Even heard the apparent shower-sighter took another swing.

“Hey, uh,” He waved, a glass of something that probably wasn’t water cradled in one hand and the other reaching for his boyfriend. Isak turned on his heel, taking a step back against the wall as the man’s hand stretched further. “Anders. Sorry about the shower earlier, if I had known Eskild lived with…”  
  
Look, Even didn’t miss the way the guy’s eyes were eating at Isak’s fixture. He knew Isak didn’t either, judging by the nonplussed expression creeping over his face. Was Even going to stop it, though?

He was pretty sure Isak thought the answer was yes, and, granted, Even _was_ a relatively overprotective boyfriend. Like. Any other situation could have virtually guaranteed his intervention, and the list of said interventions was actually pretty long. Sour glances? Side-eyes? Offhanded, definitely not light hearted comments? Ambitious flirting? The wrong kind of _smile_ from another person was oftentimes enough for Even to pull a suspicious grimace. Moreso than that, it was often grounds for him to tug Isak into his side (who wasn’t-- he didn’t-- PDA wasn’t their _thing_ , especially not Isak’s, so that sorta gesture had to have serious connotations to the younger boy) and think of ways to excuse themselves.

It almost always turned out to be nothing. _Rarely_ did it actually turn into a problem for either of them.

So.  
  
Why not… let this one slide?

Isak reluctantly took the man’s hand, shaking it exactly one time before mentioning, “It’s okay, thanks. I really have to go, though, but it was nice… Meeting you.” He offered a polite (read: thin) smile before stepping out of Anders’s orbit. Anders lifted a brow.  
  
Even pulled his scarf over his chin to hide his smile.

“Are you sure you can’t stick around?”

Isak paused, eyes glancing up at Even. Who didn’t. Move. A muscle.

“I, uh.” Isak turned back to face him. “Yeah, I’m sure, thanks."

“I’m sure your friends wouldn’t mind?” There was a hopeful lilt in Anders’s voice, one that Jonas was clearly getting a kick out of as he hid his own amused expression behind gloved fingers. Isak shot him a glare.

“I…” He shook his head, making an effort to shove his heel properly into his shoe. “Really, I--”

“I think it’d be okay, right guys?” Even furrowed his brow, nodding as he looked to Jonas who-- fucking _bless him_ , just-- nodded along, a tight lipped smile gracing his cheeks to mask a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” Magnus jumped in. “Yeah, you and Anders’ll have a good time here.”

If looks could kill, Isak’s eyes were an artillery.

“I thought my _boyfriend_ was going to meet up with us, though?” Isak’s words were pointed .Even squinted, watching Anders’s expression fall a bit before he chimed in,

“C’mon, you guys aren’t even exclusive." 

Mahdi and Magnus let out spluttering laughs, one of them taking enough care to hide in their elbow when Jonas clapped him on the back. He hit his own shoulder on the doorframe, sinking a little bit after noticing the shocked expression on his best friend’s face. Even graced his boyfriend with a pinching smile.

“What?” Isak hissed, eyes blown wide as he watched Even smile at the ceiling.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he pressed on. “You can chill here.” It was clear Anders was a little suspicious, but nudging Isak until he fell back against the wall had the man’s smile growing again.

And, like, listen. It would have been stellar to _actually_ walk out, maybe make it as far as the stairs before he went back for his boyfriend who would have undoubtedly been amused behind his irritation, but.  
  
The glint in the younger boy’s eyes put a splitting feeling in his chest. It was at that point he figured the blush in Isak’s cheeks probably wasn’t from embarrassment, either.  
  
“What,” and Even wasn’t typically one for backpedaling, but here he was, “Did you think I was serious, babe? Jesus,” He nudged him again, watching the distrust in Isak’s eyes flourish. “I was kidding.”

“Uh huh,” Isak was…Not right. Whatever it was. Whenever Jonas retold it, he always said that Isak was _mad_ , was more pissy than anything that Even was actually about to leave him with some weirdo that caught him in the shower.

To some degree, he kind of was. That evening had a different ending for them, though, as Jonas took Ida home and Even was still left trying to navigate the beginning of the evening.

“Not exclusive?” Isak asked quietly, combing his fingers through his hair after he set his beanie on his desk. Even frowned.

“Wait, is that…?”  
  
“Yeah, that. Kinda stung.” He shrugged, making eye contact with the threading in the carpet. 

“Oh, babe,” He scoffed, wrapping his arm’s around Isak’s waist and pulling them back towards the bed, landing with a huff. “That was a _joke._ I just wanted to--” 

“Still hurt.” Isak crossed his arms over Even’s chest, laying his chin on his forearms. “‘s all I’m sayin’.” 

“You know, when you say stuff in English like that, it kinda turns me on.”

“Wha--” He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. “What the fuck?”

_“I’m kidding_ , holy shit,” Even tightened his arms as the younger boy tried to wriggle away. He tilted them to their sides so they could meet eye to eye. “Kinda.”

_“Babe.”_  

“I said kinda!” 

Isak snorted, pinching at Even’s sides to make him gasp and shove him away. Isak let out a laugh as he clung to the mattress to keep himself afloat.  
  
“You know what I found out tonight, though,” Isak rolled onto his stomach, tapping the ridge of Even’s nose. “You know Ida?”  
  
He nodded. _“Apparently_ she’s trying to talk Jonas into using toys. On _him.”_  

Even’s eyes widened almost comically, making the younger boy dissolve into laughter again.  

“She what! How is he taking that?”

“Uh,” He tilted his head a bit, still sort of chuckling as he gestured down between them with a glance.  

“Oh, _pfft,”_ Even shoved at him again. “No, I meant--” 

“I know what you meant. He wanted to ask me if it _felt good.”_  

Even’s expression only intensified. “And what did you _say,_ what the fuck?”

Isak squinted, leaning over the other boy slightly as he whispered, “I told him my boyfriend is good at what he does.” 

_#####_

Eva would permanently claim her favorite thing about the way Evan and Isak treated each other is that they were still _friends_. They still screwed around with each other, and despite always being in close quarters, it's not like they were hovering either.  

“Are you guys pretty close?” She asked jokingly, elbowing Even in the ribs. They were leaning against the counter in the kollektivet kitchen, Eva having spent the night with Noora and Even a particularly unavoidable character. He smiled at her. 

“I'd like to think so.”

“Yeah?” She grinned, not really sure why she was challenging him, but he definitely didn't seem to be bothered. “He, uh, ever tell you about what we found on his phone?” 

Even furrowed his brow, like he actually had to think about something so broad. He pursed his lips before saying, “What, the Grindr profile thing? I mean--”

_“Wait,_ he has a Grindr?” She clapped her hands back on the counter despite Even shaking his head. 

“For a whole 72 hours, yeah, but it sounds like that wasn’t what you were gonna tell me.” 

“Oh, it-- it wasn't, but I gotta know about that Grindr thing later. All I was gonna tell you was that, um, at the Christmas party in first year?” She picked up a hand, and he nodded along with her as she gestured. “I was looking for Vilde, and Noora called her using his phone, right?” 

“Right?” Even quirked an eyebrow carefully, peering back into the hallway to see if their bedroom door was open. “And?” 

“I think this was before he came to terms with himself, or. Yeah. He had, like, 8 or 9 different tabs open that were just gay porn.” 

He snapped his head back, giving her probably the most amused and inquisitive look she'd ever seen. It made her giggle behind her palm as he let out a scoffing laugh.  

“He…” 

“He really did!”

Turns out, he _really really_ did. 

Present evening, Jonas was telling old stories about the adventures he and Isak embarked on as children, and for some reason, everyone was getting some sort of kick out of it. Even couldn't put a finger on why. Maybe the water in Eva’s fridge was spiked. Who knew.

Regardless, the moment was golden and he had to go for it. 

“Wow, I'm surprised you guys didn't date at one point,” Eva was laughing, watching Isak give her an uncomfortable glare under his smile. Jonas was laughing wholeheartedly, which settled the tension in the room fairly easily. “You guys seemed like perfect matches.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you,” Isak teased back, earning a glare himself. Eva winked after a moment, letting Isak settle back against the sofa on the floor. He'd situated himself between Even’s legs some time ago, and not that the older boy minded, but he still wished a little that he would feel his body heat.

 “What, you _didn’t_ like Jonas at some point?” Noora’s own laugh was like a peel of bells. Even could feel the younger boy stiffen against his calves, so he gently reached down to curl a lock of hair at the nape of Isak’s neck through his fingers. 

“What the fuck?” His voice popped a little. “No? He’s like my brother, that’s nasty.” 

Noora shrugged, a knowing smile on her lips as she leaned back into the sofa. Isak was shaking his head when Even decided to jump in.

“Bet all those guys on your phone were your brothers, too.” He tried to say it flippantly, taking another drink from his glass as Isak whipped around to give him a rattled glance.

“Excuse me?” He asked, right as Eva burst into choking laughter around her own glass. He whipped back to look at her, a crimson flush growing over his ears.

“Y-- you know,” Eva held her stomach, making an effort to catch her breath. Noora hid her face behind her hands, her own laughter shaking her frame silently. “At the Christmas party last year? Noora and I found a bunch of gay porn on your phone.”

Isak's face was beet fucking red, and Even had never loved him more. All the younger boy could do was fucking _stare_ and it was somehow hilarious and terrifying-- he couldn't imagine what Isak was feeling, but it was nice to see him so _far_ out of his comfort zone. Not like, because it was torture?? But.

Isak was goddamn adorable when he lost his hyper-chill demeanor.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He mumbled, making an effort to scoot away from Even’s lingering fingers when Even gripped his shoulder. He squeezed it twice, which, in all fairness, he expected to do absolutely nothing to calm the other boy down. Isak scooted out of his legs, sliding up the couch to settle gingerly against the older boy.

“You little bitch,” Isak whispered in his ear, voice nothing but venom, making Even choke on the water he swallowed as he tried to stifle a laugh.

_#####_

  
His personal favorite was, uh. Okay, it. Looking back, it may have been going a little too far, but it really was the _best_. He swears.  
  
On a Tuesday morning _(“They’re the worst fucking day of the week, Even, it’s not the beginning anymore but you’re nowhere near the end, either. It’s disgusting and should be outlawed.” “You’re just upset because you woke up before your alarm.” “Shut your mouth.”),_ they were sitting across from each other at a bench in the courtyard, Jonas and Mahdi sort of leaning to one side as they examined something on Mahdi’s phone while Vilde, Sana, and Magnus were chatting animatedly about something Isak couldn’t pick up his ears for.  
  
Even kicked at his ankle under the table, jolting his chin from the wood. “The _f--”_  
  
The older boy held a finger to his lips, eyes sly as he jerked a thumb to Vilde on his left. Isak furrowed his brows, evidently confused and a little annoyed when he tried to put his face back in his elbows. Even scoffed.

“Don’t give me that,” He said, flicking at the rim of his boyfriend’s snapback to get his attention again. “I am _trying_ to _communicate.”_  

Isak caught his finger easily, lifting his nose to glare weakly. “You are _trying_ to be _annoying.”_

Even let out a little _pfft_ noise, opening his mouth to retort when Magnus chimed in, “Ooh, is _Evak_ having a little fight?”  
  
Isak offered him one of those fucking squints again, making Even laugh as the other boy dropped his grip on his finger. “No,” He said, voice muffled by his elbow. “Just tired.”  
  
“Wonder why,” The older boy tilted his head, earning a whistle from across the table. His smile could have hung the moon. Isak felt it in the pit of his stomach before he caught on to whatever the whistle was about.

“Oh, Jesus,” The younger boy sighed, finally lifting his head and swinging back a bit. “It’s not like that.”  
  
Oho, but it was about to be.

Even rolled his eyes regardless, giving Magnus a wink that was maybe a little too exaggerated for eight in the morning. Magnus gave him a scandalous gasp in reply, earning the three of them a few more glances as they were pulled from their own conversations.  
  
“What?” Vilde raised an eyebrow as she leaned back to see them properly. “What’s going on?”

Isak’s exasperated, muffled _“Nothing!”_ was completely masked by Magnus’s “Somebody _got some_ last night!”

“Jesus fucking--” He gave Even a tired glare before he waved his hand in Magnus’s direction. “No, Jesus christ, I’m tired because fucking _Giraffe Child_ here,” He gestured to Even (and, look, Isak could deny the little amusement he found in the situation for the rest of his life, but Even still caught it in his eye), “Has as many sleeping problems as I do.”  
  
His hand fell flat with a smack. He could see a question in Jonas’s eyes, and it hit him that he… maybe… had said too much…  
  
But Even caught on just as quickly, kicking Isak’s ankle again as he retorted with, “What, you gonna tell Magnus he’s _wrong?”_

“And, look,” how Vilde was _that fucking chipper_ at this time of day, no one will ever know, “We all know the best way to tire someone out is with sex. It’s not like it’s a secret.”

Isak’s eyes didn’t break from his boyfriend’s face, palms up on the table while his gaze said _fucking why, Even_ , 

“You know it _really_ works at, like, three in the morning if you can make him feel like you’re poking his diaphr _agm,”_ The last syllable was choked as Isak’s eyes blew wide, leaping around the bench to wrap his elbow over Even’s mouth, yanking him backward from his seat. The group around them erupted into laughter as Isak hid his face against the back of the other boy’s shoulder.

“You’re _so_ fucking lucky you're cute,” Isak hissed in his ear, making Even laugh even harder as he tried to pry the younger boy’s arm off his mouth. Isak’s cheek was hot against the back of Even’s neck, and you know what. That was fucking golden.

_#####_

For Isak, it was a little different. Even did not embarrass easily. The guy had _years_ of practice working all of that out of his system, so it posed different challenges-- which Isak did not mind taking on in the least.

The fact of the matter was that Even had borderline lost the ability to be ashamed by anything he did, at this point; the few lingering exceptions being when he makes other people feel terrible in the process. When those moments were talked about it, it was never in a joking light, and by way of extension, could not be joked _about_. Which Isak completely understood. Bringing up the fact that he kind of ran away from home in anything similar to jest wasn’t going to make the situation light. In a similar fashion, asking Even about, like, why he had to leave Bakka, or the night at the Radisson, or why he didn’t joke about being bipolar-- it’s hard to go there in the first place.

So messing with him was hard. But.  
  
Just as Even was good at peeling away Isak’s hard layers, Isak as good at stitching together Even’s softer ones.

Only when _(and only when)_ the situation presented itself could Isak poke fun at him and really get away with it. Even just about always met him stride for stride in those moments. So this was a breed of sweetness Isak didn’t taste very often.

They were in the courtyard, Friday afternoon, Isak _more_ than happy just to go and turn in for the evening (he had _three_ fucking exams today, he was just over everything), talking with the other boys about how Magnus was supposed to bring Vilde home tonight, but he had no idea how to exactly… Get her home.

“Just invite her back to your place?” Mahdi offered, expression a little confused and incredulous as Magnus ran his hands through his hair. “It’s simple. What’s the worst that could happen?”

And, of course, Isak was compelled to make some sort of backhanded comment that would have them laughing-- but the way Even’s fingers were tracing shapes on the small of his back had him off track.

“She might go nuts and break into someone’s basement,” He half-mumbled, more looking at the ground versus anyone else. Magnus cackled for a second, snapping his attention back up with a quirked brow, “Wait, what?”

“What?!” Magnus was still laughing. It was only after Isak’s expression further dissolved that he gave him his own confused glance. “What, were you serious?”

Isak turned his palms over, shrugging as he readjusted his snapback with a thumb jerk in Even’s direction. “It’s not unheard of.”

Even huffed, looking back at the sky as he tried to conceal a tight-lipped grin. Jonas scoffed.

“The fuck did you do?” He asked, making Isak roll his eyes.

“He fucking-- remember Halloween? Okay, he decided we were gonna ditch the pregame at my place--”

“You had a pregame without us?” Magnus reeled a little with a jerk of his head, and Isak waved him off.

“Not the point. We rode like, ten or eleven blocks in his bike before he stopped in front of a house, claimed it was his aunt’s who was out on vacation, and then broke into the basement to get to the pool.”

The boys were laughing as he continued, “I’m pretty sure we committed a felony. Oh my god.” When he looked over to Even, his lips were still pulled tight with--

He was blushing?  
  
The younger boy furrowed his brow, patting at his cheekbone teasingly. “Oh, what, are you embarrassed?”

“When you pull it out of context like that!” Even looked at him, and oh my _god_ , he was definitely blushing.

“What other kind of context is there!”

“The one where you explain that I was trying to make a move on you!” He laughed, cheeks reddening noticeably when Isak raised his eyebrows at him. “What, are you gonna pretend like you didn’t know?”

“You were _what?”_

“Oh my god,” Mahdi laughed, tipping his own hat back in place. “Are you guys serious? I feel like we’re completely off topic.”

They were, truthfully, but that didn’t mean the younger boy didn’t bring it up after they got home.

After toeing off his shoes and dropping his bag in his room, Isak face him.

“You were trying to make a move on me?” He asked, voice a little shyer than he was going for.

“Are you _surprised?”_ Even raised an eyebrow. “For real? Isak, I _told you_ I went to that Kosegruppa meeting to meet you, like, did you think I didn’t plan a lot of--”

_“Wait,”_ Isak cut him off, amused and maybe a little elated, “You fucking had your I.D. on you when I ran into you on the train, didn’t you?”

Even widened his eyes playfully, wrapping his arms around Isak and digging his fingers into his ribs. “Maybe!” He countered, and Isak did not miss the rosey coloring in his cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was so long zsdfklhsdlf
> 
> sorry my dudes, the next couple might be shorter than. you know. bordering 4k words. unless you want them to be longer but yeah
> 
> pls let me know what you think <3 have a nice day/night  
>  [find me here.](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)
> 
> p.s. i used the wrong text editor this time + had a small window of time to post this before my computer got cut off, so if this looked a little fucked, that's why.


	7. how to: make him family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again it is i
> 
> it's been a little while :/ i love writing this and i hope you'll continue to stick around when i don't update for... nearly... ten... days...
> 
> this is somewhere between revisiting chap. 3 and setting up for a future drabble. consider it a crossroads.
> 
> [i listened to this song on repeat whenever i sat down to write this ;p](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7t8IaeWxCA) i hope you enjoy this one.

“Have you ever seen Four Brothers?” Even underarmed a shirt in his direction, which Isak caught (pretty beautifully, if he did say so himself) in the laundry basket.

“Uh, what?” There was laughter in his voice as he walked backward out of their bedroom, rounding the corner and moving slowly for the other boy to catch up with him. He held the laundry basket in front of him to avoid whatever reaction his boyfriend would undoubtedly have as he snarkily replied, _“You_ wasted your time on a John Singleton movie?”

Even caught up to him with pillowcases in his fingers, eyes overtly nonplussed. He dropped them in the basket as Isak lead them to the back door of the apartment, keeping up with him closely. “Don’t start with me, boy. Have you seen it or not?”

Isak nodded shortly, making lame efforts to twist the doorknob with the back of his elbow when he landed against the door. “What about it?”

Even watched him for a moment, lips pursed to hide a smile. “You got that?” He pointed a finger, meeting Isak’s own finished expression as he leaned forward to twist the knob for him, leading them out the back way to the laundry room. 

“You know that scene when Sofi and Angel get into it--”

“So every time they interact?” Isak quirked a brow, is shoved lightly by his boyfriend.

“Shut up. That scene when they’re in the house, and Angel has to go into the laundry room for something before he leaves, and Sofi’s sitting on the dryer in lingerie and asks him if--”

“I think I know where this is going.” Isak squinted at him over his shoulder, making Even laugh, light and chime-like. “It is a Tuesday night. Both of us have homework. Is that wise.”

“Listen, you,” Even sort of stumbled forward to grab Isak around the waist, pulling him back against his chest and making the younger boy gasp a little in surprise. “Are you telling me it’s a bad idea?” He whispered, arms tough and fingers soft over Isak’s stomach. In his opinion, it was kind of astounding that is was so easy to throw the younger boy off kilter-- he’d literally only put his lips against the side of his neck, and here Isak was, fucking. _Visibly_ taking deep breaths to calm himself down. 

“I am telling you that that I don't think-- you can't fucking,” Isak jolted, whipping around and tightening his grip on the laundry basket. His eyes were daggers in Even’s. “Don't start kissing my neck in a public hall. You are asking for it.”

He smirked. “I thought that was pretty clear.”

His expression turned something sardonic as he turned on his heel to march towards the laundry room. 

But even after they'd sorted the loads and had both the machines running, even after Isak (who pointedly came on this mission to show that he does his own laundry, thanks) pulled out the first dry batch to fold, Even’s resolve hadn't faded. 

The room was empty, the four sets of machines otherwise unoccupied as they lounged around. The younger settled on the linoleum against one of the unused machines, picking at a loose string on the hem of his shirt. Even was calculating.

“C’mere,” he said, barely above a whisper. Isak glanced upward, eyeing the mess of garments on top of the dryer Even said he'd work on. “Please.”

His arm was extended, palm up and open. Isak raised his brows, earning a glittery smile from the other boy.

Okay, well, it's not like he wasn't going to take his hand. Not after that stupid grin.

So he held Even’s hand as the older boy tugged him to his feet, wrapping an arm around Isak's waist and pulling their chests together. 

“What?” Isak asked, open arm automatically wrapping around Even’s shoulder. He was met with another smile. 

“Dance with me.”

Isak gave him another look. “What?” 

“I've already kind of got you here,” His smile didn't fade as he turned them in small circles, and Isak could deny it all day, but some part of him didn't… _not_ enjoy it. “Dance with me.”

Even knew his boyfriend was smarter than he looked. He knew he probably wasn't going to get away with it when he lead them around in six or seven easy circles before gently pressing Isak against the dryer, warm and rumbling softly, but he'd be damned if he didn't try. Honestly, was Isak going to push him away?

Especially when he brushed his lips against Isak's ear, airy and light? When Isak tucked his face into the older boy’s shoulder, would he stop Even if he pressed a palm to the small of his back and kissed at the joint of his neck and shoulder? Would he stop him when he ran a deft hand up his spine, maybe pulled his collar to the side and pressed a kiss or five to the skin? 

Would he stop Even when the younger boy let out a breathy sigh, totally expecting (and being completely right) an open, dragging kiss to his lips? When Even tugged him closer, earning himself another little gasp? When Even sucked on his bottom lip? Or shifted a warm hand beneath his shirt to trace at the dips in his spine? 

Because he didn't. He didn't even dare it, didn't dream about it. Even when Even actually did nudge him against the dryer. When Even pushed their hips together, when he gripped at Isak's hipbones and licked into his mouth. When Isak wrapped his other arm around Even’s shoulder, pulled him impossibly closer, when the older boy used his height to his advantage because he didn't have to lean down to catch his fingers on the back of Isak's thighs to pull him atop the dryer. He didn't stop him. Didn't want to. 

Even smiled against Isak's lips, licking into his mouth and hearing the other boy let out a feeble moan when he pulled their hips together, harsh and unwavering. He could feel Isak shudder.

The younger boy bit at his lip, sucked on the tip of his tongue while his fingers carded through Even’s hair.

“Even,” His voice breathy, “You-- _fuck,”_

“What was that?” He asked teasingly, grinding against him slowly. A hand came up under Isak's thigh again to hitch up around Even’s waist. 

“You're not,” Isak swallowed as another shudder hit his spine. “You're not slick, don't think I don't know--”

“Who’s not slick?” A third voice asked, light and startling as Isak jerked away from his boyfriend. His back hit the wall, Even’s grip on his thigh unwavering as the older boy’s head snapped to the open doorway. 

Eskild stood with a hand on his hip and a phone in the other, amusement decorating his features. “I just came down here to, eh, let Isak know his mom called, but if you guys are too busy…”

“Wait, what?” Isak asked, face still flushed as he leapt from the dryer to snag his phone from Eskild. He decided not to comment on how bad his hands were shaking as Isak unlocked his phone.

Eskild leaned against the doorway, focused on Isak's expression while Even came up to rub a hand over his boyfriend’s shoulder. Isak was tapping at his phone sort of frantically, holding it down to his stomach like he was trying to shield it.

“She, uh,” He clicked at the keyboard as he replied to whatever unanswered message she left. “Called four times. Apparently…” He sighed, licked his lips.

“Everything okay?” Eskild asked. There was some sort of front there. Even could see it. 

“Their di-- my parents, a while ago, decided to get a divorce. Like, I knew that, it wasn't a big deal at the time because everyone sort of thought it was obvious, but… I guess it's being finalized. She's not handling it well.” He shrugged, Even’s fingers flowing with it. 

“Oh, shit,” he breathed quietly, remembering her demeanor from several weeks earlier. Isak nodded once. 

__

#####

“Is dryer sex off the table?” He asked jokingly, elbowing Isak in the ribs as they walked up to the Nissen courtyard. Isak let out a _pfft,_ never looking up from his phone (which had. been the whole point of making that comment. but.) as he replied,

“I think you mean off the _dryer.”_

“Oho,” Even smiled. “You're cute.”

“You should see yourself.”

“Funny, because _you haven't,”_ he said pointedly, elbowing the other boy in the ribs again. Isak jerked, looking up at him with furrowed brows when Even stopped in front of him. “You've been on your phone since you woke up. What’s going on?”

He frowned. “It's just my mom?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Even gripped Isak’s forearms, matching Isak’s furrowed brows in concern. Isak pursed his lips to the side, glancing from Even’s gaze to the backlight of his screen a few times before sighing. 

“I, just. I don't really know what to do? I don't know how to help her.” He shrugged, flipping his phone around for Even to see the messages. The older boy let go of his arm and plucked the phone from his finger, scrolling through the conversations from last night. Isak twined his free arm around Even’s waist. 

It wasn't… easy to see. 

It was evident she was aching throughout the texts. She made an effort to reach out to her son, but didn't know how to communicate what she needed to say. It really did just seem like she wanted someone to talk to, and that's what burned Even the most-- this was a mother who had given her son a lot of grief, and if Even hadn't witnessed the impacts of that firsthand, he never would have… been able to see it here. 

“I think,” he said, putting Isak's phone in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie and pulling him closer. “She's putting a lot on you when it's not your responsibility. And you don't have any… You shouldn't have to help her.”

“That's my _mom,_ Even.” He frowned.

“Oh, no, that's not-- here,” he kissed his forehead. “Isak, I just meant that you don't have an obligation to help her. If you _want_ to help her, that's one thing, but don't feel like you need to.”

“What if I want to?” 

“Then you-- or we, whatever you prefer-- go over there and… see what can happen.”

Isak held his gaze carefully, hearing Jonas call for them over Even’s shoulder moments later. He whispered, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” before plastering a brighter expression over his face and sweeping past Even to greet his friend.

__

#####

Isak didn’t dream. 

If he did, he never remembered them. Like, sure, sometimes he woke up feeling fuzzy or teary, sometimes it was in a cold sweat and shivering. Tonight was the latter. Except. 

He did remember it.

Jonas was taller than him, jokingly tugging the beanie from his head as he jumped off the tram. He snagged it back, giving him a teasing scowl before the doors closed.

He tugged his phone from his pocket. Made an effort not to be disappointed. His dad hadn’t messaged him all day, no _be home by 21:00_ or _dinner done at 16:30,_ nothing. It he was borderline customary for his dad to “need” to tell him something throughout the day, to see if he could get ahold of Isak, to see if he hadn’t fucking run off, or something. He’d never admit to it, but. Isak knew that was why.

It’s not like home was good. His mom’s behavior grew shadier by the hour. His father home even less than Isak was. Lea fucking-- not--

He shook his head, tugging his beanie back down over his ears. 

His dad hadn’t sent him a message. It’s not like… something was wrong, right?

If he picked up the pace, no one had to know.

And… Maybe it was intuition.

But finding the front door wide open, sedan running with the left side doors just as wide probably wasn’t a sign that things were good.

The closer he got, the worse it seemed. Over the sound of his feet stamping down the gravel driveway, he could hear some kind of half-weeping, half-yelling emanating from the door, and it was no surprise that it was his mother having a tantrum over-- 

His… father? With a bag?

“Dad?” He asked, feet scraping against the stoop as he pulled the front door open wider. They were standing a little skewed from the entryway, towards the front room. He was looming over her, shoulders set with heavy eyes and fingers pallor around the handle of a suitcase. Their eyes snapped to him at the sound of his voice, whatever conversation they were having evaporating just as quickly.

“Isak,” he sighed, somewhere between shocked and sad, as his shoulders slumped. His eyes rolled for a moment before he gestured to Isak’s mother with a lame hand. “Um,”

“Where are you going?” He asked. He knew he sounded sort of scared, but there was pretty much no use in hiding the concern etching into his eyebrows. His father opened his mouth to reply, seeming lost on his words for a moment before his mother-- who he’d hardly looked at, was lunging for him.

Her eyes were glossy, pupils dilated like she was fucking _high_ or something when she landed on him. If she hadn’t looked like she just got home from work, or something, it was more than easy to assume she hadn’t seen sunlight in days. She wrapped spiny fingers around his biceps, squeezing a little too hard when she jerked him forward.

“He’s _leaving_ us,” she weeped, voice completely shot. Isak balked, looking over her shoulder to find a man with no expression. “He thinks I’m going _mad,_ son, he thinks I’m-- he thinks that we’re _safe here,_ like the rapture isn’t upon us--”

“Mom,” He hissed, grabbing her wrists and shoving them away. She looked stunned as he backed into the doorway again. “What are you talking about? Dad, where are you--”

_“Isak?”_

He jumped, gasping as he rolled off the side of the bed. “Babe, are you-- Isak?”

There were warm fingers on the nape of his neck, pressure barely ceasing as Even crouched down over him. “Can you hear me?”

“What?” His voice was rocky, scrubbing at his eyes while Even tried to pull at his hands.

“Are you okay? You were shaking really hard in your sleep, I wasn’t--”

“My mom,” He hissed, daring a glance above him. “She-- I can’t forget the look she had on her face when…”

“Isak?” Another palm held his cheek, twisting him on his back. “She’s not here, you’re okay. You’re okay. Do you know how to-- inhale four seconds, exhale three,” Even picked up one of the younger boy’s hands, holding it to his own chest. “Match my breathing.”

It took a moment. Isak watched his boyfriend’s fingers weave through his own, squeezing their knuckles together and rubbing in small circles with his thumb.

“Are you okay?” The older boy asked.

“She looked so scared.” He said quietly, eyes still trained on Even’s thumbnail. “I was, like, remembering when I came home and found out my dad was taking off.”

Even stayed quiet. “Like, she… When she caught me, I remember thinking that my dad hurt her, or something. I got really mad, but. She was just so scared. And my dad like, walked right by us like it was nothing, saying that the car was still running…” He shrugged.

“I thought it was gonna be okay for a couple hours. She ordered dinner, I stuck in my room most of the night, but around 22:00 she went off the rails and, I, just. I had to go. I couldn’t do it.”

“Why do you think… You were remembering that?” Even laid down beside him on the floor, propping up on an elbow.

“I don’t know.”

Silence hung over them for a moment, Isak’s eyes to the ceiling and Even’s on his boyfriend. The older boy was getting the vibe that this wasn’t something-- it shouldn’t-- alright.

“Hey,” He said, catching Isak’s eyes.

“Hm?”

“You’re cute when you’re sweaty.”

Isak grinned. “Fuck you.”

__

#####

“Is he wearing your jacket?” She said, making Isak’s ears go numb.

After _weeks_ of coaxing, Even had finally gotten the younger boy to agree to have dinner with his parents again -- the 4th time, actually. His parents were _obsessed_ with Isak, like, actually threatened to adopt him at their second encounter _obsessed._ To Even, it was hilarious and adorable and he loved watching Isak explore this sort of thing. He loved that his parents loved Isak. He loved that Isak loved his parents, too, but.

He loved that Isak had _no idea_ how to act, the most. 

Right before they’d left for his house the first time, the younger boy pulled him close to explain that he’d never become close enough to anyone romantically to _“meet their fucking families,”_ he said. And that was fine. He ended up handling it pretty well, and Even’s parents were charmed out of their minds by mid-afternoon, and it was just. It was everything. It was so great.

It didn’t mean his nervousness ever… left. Or evaporated. Whatever. 

So, mid-meeting #4, Isak dashed off to the bathroom to take a minute to berate himself for saying something dumb about _i don’t think i’ve ever had, like, a conversation with my parents over dinner before,_ because 1) he made it sound like Even’s parents were becoming his parents, Jesus, what the fuck, _why,_ and 2) that let them in too deep. Too fast. Too much. 

He palmed cold water down his face a few times before turning the knob up completely, remembering Even’s offhanded burning my hands makes me forget about my brain for a second, and holding them there when he heard it.

This was definitely Even’s fucking jacket.

He could tell because it was already long on _his boyfriend,_ if you take away the extra 11 centimeters, the damn thing nearly went mid-thigh on Isak. It was heathered and warm and Isak didn’t even think about throwing it on before they came here, and now.

Fuck.

He yanked his hands out of the spray, trembling as the red splotches bloomed over his knuckles, the ridge on his wrist. 

_Fuck._ Whatever. He had to do this. 

He turned the cold water back on to soothe the burning, waiting for the smattering of color to dissipate before stepping back out.

The table wasn’t quiet when he sat back down, which he had probably never been so thankful for something in his life, honestly. They were talking about something he couldn’t really latch onto, and found himself able to actually take a few more bites before Even’s mother was catching his glance.

“Even was telling us that you look a lot like your mother,” She smiled, inflection in her tone. He raised his eyebrows, giving Even a curious glance before she spoke again. “What’s your family like, Isak? I don’t think I’ve ever asked.”

Well, fuck. 

“Uh,” He ran his palms down this legs. “They… I’m not really close with them. There was a blowout about a year ago that resulted in all of us sort of separating at once. I don’t really get along with them-- eh,” He held up his hands, eager to backpedal at her concerned stare. “It’s just-- my parents and I are completely different people. We always have been. I’ve _never_ been close with them, it’s okay.” Even’s eyes were burning into the side of his head.

“Do you…” She trailed. “What about siblings, or?”

The older boy’s eyes darted to her.

“Oh,” he breathed. “Um. I… Have a sister, I guess.”

“You guess?” His dad jumped in, and Even gave him a glare, but Isak spoke before he could.

“Eh, yeah, she… A younger sister. My parents had kids pretty late, and that can have complications, you know? She was born super prematurely and didn’t…” He shrugged, looking down at his lap for a moment. “It’s okay. I never really knew her. Mom never really let go of it, though.”

“Oh, Isak,” She looked at him forlornly, and he was overwhelmed with the urge to escape again. “I’m sorry. I hope you know that you can consider us your family.”

Isak blinked, the air holding like time stopped. 

“Seriously?” He breathed eventually, and he wasn’t? Emotional? What? Was happening in his stomach?

“Absolutely.”

__

#####

“I’m sorry if that was weird,” Even told him later. They were stomach down on the mattress, an arm thrown across each other haphazardly (okay, well, Isak’s hand was in Even’s hair, but when was it _not?)._ “They just really like you.”

“I don’t really have a family like that,” He breathed, no malice or negativity present. It was almost humor. “It was actually sort of cool to… hear that.”

Even’s eyes fell shut, giving way to the feel of Isak's fingers scratching at his scalp. He hummed in response.

“You're like a cat.” The younger boy whispered. Even peeled an eye open. “You're, like, _purring.”_

Even hummed again, nuzzling further into the pillow and letting the atmosphere lull around them. The further it stretched, the more it seemed like every other night; one boy was pulled into the other’s chest, someone jerked or gasped at cold toes, and one would eventually ask if the other was still awake.

“Yeah,” Isak murmured, the hum of his throat tickling Even’s nose. “Is something wrong?”

“Are you gonna talk to your mom sometime?” Even fisted his hand in the excess fabric of his boyfriend’s shirt, using his forefinger to trace shapes between his shoulder blades.

Isak shivered. “Should I? I don't… know what I'd do.”

“I think talking would be a good first step.” He tipped his nose up so Isak could tilt his chin down. “Worked with me.” He shrugged.

“It's different with you.” Isak whispered, tilting further to brush their noses together.

“I still think it'd be a good way to get… to move forward.”

He could see the contemplation in Isak’s eyes, much like sorrow and less like hopefulness. He sighed, giving him a chaste kiss. “Isak?”

“Even, I… what if… things go…” He looked down. Even sighed again, pulling back to meet him eye to eye. 

“I think you'll regret it if you don't. If things don't go well, then maybe it's an opportunity to… close that door.” He brushed a curl away from the other boy’s forehead. Isak swallowed, leaned forward a little.

“Why are you this smart?” He whispered, barely audible and maybe a little playful. 

“Ah,” he pulled a smile. “To be old and wise--”

“You're twenty.” He deadpanned, to which Even didn't falter.

“You must first be young and stupid.” He winked. Isak scoffed, pushing at his chest and making the other boy let out a laugh. Even tugged him back in, planting a wet kiss on Isak's top lip and refusing to be ashamed about the noise he made when the younger boy gripped his chin to plant several more, wetter, hotter ones across his cheekbone in reply.

“I’m trying to have a serious conversation!” He laughed, pushing lamely at Isak.

“Then don’t give me that dumb smile you get when you think you’re being funny!” He hummed in his ear, tickling the older boy and making him sputter.

“For real, kjære, c’mere, I-- _what are you--”_ Isak pinched at the soft skin above his waistband, making Even gasp and shove his shoulders. 

“If I blow you, can we stop talking about my mom?” He was still talking into his ear, which was easily eating away at whatever resolve Even had about this. So, y’know. He’d play back.

“Who’s the catfucker now?” Even smiled. Isak scoffed against his cheek.

“The fuck? How did you even find out about that?”

“I was sitting right across from you guys!” 

__

#####

“Hey,” Even clapped Jonas on the shoulder, effectively diverting his attention from untangling his headphones. “Uh, have you seen Isak today?”

Jonas shook his head, humming in the back of his throat before looking back down at his headphones. “No, I haven’t heard from him. Is everything okay?”

“That’s why I asked _you,”_ He laughed, shaking his head before waving. “I’m gonna call him.”

He whipped out his phone as he exited the courtyard, dialing the number easily and tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder as he zipped up his jacket properly. When the phone went to voicemail, he started running.

The worst part was that the apartment was _empty_ when he got there, like, all was quiet on the western front or fucking something. Nothing was burning, no shoes squeaking, no TV blaring, it was-- not--

“Isak?” He called, barely taking his shoes from his feet before peeking into the front room. He stamped down the hall, whipping open their bedroom, door, and--

Okay, there he was. Cool. Lying on his back, head hung over the side of the bed. Isak was good. Sweet. “Uh, Isak?”

He lifted his head, face blotchy and looking as worn out as ever. “Hm?”

“Babe,” Even breathed, dropping his bag from his shoulders and taking off his jacket, letting them both fall to the floor unceremoniously. “What happened? Where were--”

“I skipped my 2nd to go see my mom.” He dropped his head back down, limp as Even dragged him by the arms to lie down properly.

“What happened?” He asked again, sitting down beside him and putting a hand on stomach. 

“It was a mistake, I'll tell you that.”

“C’mon, Isak.” He rubbed his hand in a circle. Isak sighed, looking at the ceiling as he contemplated his words. 

“I don't know what to do with her,” he said eventually, swallowing harshly and reaching down to grab Even’s hand, tangle his fingers with his own. “She… won't listen.”

“What do you mean?” He asked gently. 

“Even, she--” His eyes snapped to the doorway, shaking his head and looking back at the ceiling. “I went over there to _help_ because she's been going _nuts,_ right? You know? And then I get there and she wants nothing to do with me, telling me that if she was _really_ important to me that I'd come around more, that I'd help more, that I'm fucking--” He threw an arm up, squeezed his eyes shut. “Fucking _as bad as my father?_ For never showing my face at the house when she used to do nothing but scare us half to death every day. When I _tried_ to help for months until everything broke at once. Going there and having her yell at me like I'm a _child_ was just--”

“Babe,” Even tugged him into a sitting position, tried to disregard the plunging in his chest when Isak's voice shook. “Stop, stop. It's okay.”

“It's _not,_ Even, she thinks--”

“And you know what? She can think whatever she wants.”

“What?” Isak swiped at his eyes, and the older boy made an effort to pretend he didn't notice.

“Don't get worked up, okay? She's not-- if she's doing this, it's not worth it.”

“What?” He repeated, a little sorer. Even frowned. 

“Maybe you were _right_ when you said you don't need her in your life if being around her for an hour get you this pent up.” 

“Wh--”

“Don't ask me what again, boy,” he tried to give a smile that came out more like a grimace. “You don't… you don't need that.”

Isak was frozen for a second, lips hung on a word he didn't know how to say. “You sure… changed your mind on that, pretty quick…”

Even shook his head, shifting forward to grab one of Isak's hand and turn his fingers between his own. “Maybe I'm just a little eager to keep you from blowing your top.”

The air hung over them again, cloudy and aching. Isak was biting his lip, trying to think of something to say to break it, but nothing was coming. Nothing he could say would've sounded right, and Even could tell. 

“If you… need to say something, Isak…”

“She’s my fucking mom, is the issue. If I wasn’t related to her, if I didn’t feel so fucking-- I don’t know. I _don’t know.”_

“Babe.” Even knocked his chin with a knuckle to get him to look up. “Just because you’re related to her doesn’t mean you have an obligation to her. You can’t pick your parents. You don’t owe them anything.”

Isak’s expression was lost as first, but quickly turned incredulous. “What are you talking about?”

“Think about it. Give it a week.”

And, oho, he gave it a week. He gave it a tumultuous week, a week of unanswered texts and exasperated sighs at the sound of a cell phone. Even eventually turned the other boy's phone on "do not disturb" because that woman had no regards for another person's sleep schedule, what the fuck?

It was a week of _maybe turn off your phone,_ of _what am i supposed to do with her,_ of _should we... stop by?_ that eventually had Isak ready to claw his eyes out. That was kind of the bottom line, but something definitely came out of it. The older boy could see it the next Sunday as Isak stretched over the back of his chair, arms above his figure accompanied by a heady groan.

"Honestly," He said as he came back from it. He planted his elbows on the table, palm holding up his cheek. "I don't know how I'm going to wake up tomorrow. I could sleep for a year right now."

"You'd probably get woken up by your mom," Even laughed, but both of them knew there was something more to it. He took another bite of toast, waiting to see if Isak would say-- say _anything,_  
actually.

"Yeah, probably." He left it there, dragging his thumb off the table with a sigh. "Maybe I could just block her, or something."

"Seriously?" Even quirked a brow. Isak shrugged and pursed his lips.

"I don't know. I don't think I want to have a relationship with her if all she--" He stopped, eyes finding his boyfriend's. His nose wrinkled, momentarily transported to their conversation in locker room many months ago. "You know all this."

"This is true."

"Is it wrong?"

"I don't think you're asking the right question." Even took another bite, maintaining eye contact. "I think it's more like... Do you want it?"

Isak paused, neglecting to mask the guilt in his expression. He tugged his hood back over his head. "Not... really."

"Then there you go. That's the end of it." He tried to keep it casual, keep things easy, like Isak had done for him so many other times. He swiped his hands together (half symbolically, half to knock the lingering crumbs from his palms). Isak squinted.

"Really?"

"Yeah," He took his plate to the sink, looking over his shoulder with a smile. "That's it. Well-- okay. That's the first step. How about that?" Isak nodded once, brows still furrowed. 

"And, besides..." Even continued, winking, "My parents would be more than happy to _adopt you,_ apparently."

"Oh, Jesus," Isak moved his palm from his chin to cover his eyes when Even's laugh filled the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all wanted them lengthy ;)
> 
>  
> 
> [find me here!](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)


	8. how to: see through MDEs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mde = major depressive episode
> 
> anyway hello again it is i. good times. i feel like that one lyric that's like "i don't have writer's block, my writer just hates the clock"
> 
> [ i still live here](lachesisrn.tumblr.com) and i always want to talk about Skam. like... for real
> 
> so yea here's this one i've been trying to figure out for a long time. i have a lot of words that i'll be tacking onto the end notes.

Here's the thing.

This happens all the time.

No one _likes_ being on medication. No one likes being on immunosuppressants, blood thinners, statins; no one likes being on antidepressants, sedatives, _antipsychotics._

Isak gets it-- he's never been on something himself, but seeing his mother pour her prescription bottles out into the garbage disposal instilled an understanding in him that he didn't know would later help fill in the blanks.

The way Even wipes his tears is by taking his middle and index fingers and pushing from the ducts to the corners of his lashes. He uses the bottom of the back of his thumb to gets the excess from there. He does is sort of frantically, like he's just getting dust off his eyelashes. Isak recognizes it as a habit at 4:35 in the morning, lying on his stomach and watching his boyfriend’s glassy eyes search the ceiling.

Even practices breathing exercises when he's teetering, too. Four seconds in, three seconds out. Rinse and repeat. He lies on his back, wipes his eyes and _breathes_ and for some reason, it's mesmerizing. 

(Not romantic, don’t get him wrong. There’s nothing cute, nothing heart-racing about your significant other wish they were dissolving into the blankets).

Sometimes, when the breaths are shuddering and the younger boy doesn't have to see Even to know he's fighting something, he _(very gingerly)_ puts a hand on Even’s chest, right over his heart. Sometimes it's over his belly button, sometimes it's on his shoulder. Most of the time, Isak just scoots closer and isn't really sure what to do. 

One very specific time that he's not really sure he'll ever have again is when he felt a silent tear scroll down the ridge of his finger. His hand had been on the older boy’s cheek. He wasn't even sure Even had been awake at that point. Isak's heart broke and he knew he would never approach it. 

Even doesn't… talk about it. Often, anyways. Even stays in bed and shrugs and has problems getting words to manifest sometimes. He rolls away from touches in the afternoon and doesn't push them away in the moonlight. He tosses under the blankets and just exists, thinks, breathes, tries to sleep it out of his system while Isak _knows_ Even kind of wishes he was anywhere but here -- not away from Isak, necessarily, just… keeping him from being infected, or something. Keeping himself from bothering the younger boy. Isak can tell he doesn't even want to exist in those moments. 

When he does talk, it's empty and all Isak does is listen. It's all he can do. It's all Even could ask for, he admits at one point. Just to have ears that hear these things so he doesn't bottle them up. 

Isak woke up one time when every one of those things was happening at once; Even was pushing into his arms, hiding his face in the younger boy’s neck and shivering, his eyes wet and dry at the same time as he murmured incoherently that he's _sorry, he's so sorry and he never meant to hurt anyone. He's so sorry._

Isak hushed him to sleep. Rubbed his shoulders until all the tension melted. Carded his fingers through his hair until the shaking faded.

Now, his eyes were glossy, somehow foggy and as clear as the sky. It was almost 19:00 and Isak just sat next to him, cracking exactly one joke about _are you alive, over there?_ that was met with exactly one huff of laughter and a jerking nod. It was enough. 

At 21:30, Isak brushed his fingers across the other boy’s forehead and decided to ask, “have you taken your meds?” Because most of the time the answer is yes, but when the answer is no, he doesn't berate him. He's just wondering. Sometimes Even forgets and other times he just doesn't do it. Isak couldn't make him. 

He's met with a single shake _no,_ and Isak purses his lips. “Do you want to?” And it's met with a shrug. 

So he purses his lips out, settling his textbook beyond his lap and crawling off the bed, stepping out and back into the room with a glass of water that he sets on the floor next to Even. 

Even doesn't even blink. It wasn't surprising, but.

The younger boy shook his head, reaching for the two prescription bottles nestled neatly against the wall and popping them open. The sound gets Even’s attention, turning his head up to silently ask _what are you--_

When he meets Isak’s eyes, he does one of those dumb smiles that make Isak want to blow a raspberry in his neck. 

Isak’s got the two tablets sitting on the tip of his tongue, poking slightly out of his lips with his head tilted. It's pretty easy to figure out from there; Even leans over and takes a drink, followed by a chapped kiss that _definitely_ didn't need to be so French. 

Not that he complained. In fact. It only made Even smile around the glass of water as he swallowed the tablets down. 

“I expect to receive them like that every day,” he said, actually laughing for maybe the first time that day and Isak considers this a victory. 

__

#####

The first of a couple, it turns out. 

Having a bipolar boyfriend was sometimes thrilling and sometimes terrifying (mostly the latter), Even’s manic episodes didn't really have an in between. 

In quiet hours, Isak had spent his time researching and digesting everything he could about Even’s disorder: all the symptoms, behaviors, experiences of others and remedies for the most extreme moments, all that stuff. He didn’t really have intentions of implementing a lot of it, he was more just… Getting background information, so that if something… happened…

He cringed, scrubbing his palms into his eyes.

Once Isak could establish an actual schedule for Even to take his meds _(“Is this necessary? It’s not like I forget to take them, Is.” “Personal care assistant, remember?” “Oh my--”)_ things had calmed down considerably. Sure, there were still highs and lows, but nothing had been as severe as that night in November for… Well, since November, actually.

He wasn’t sure if that was something to pride himself on, like, _yeah, I can take care of my boyfriend._

Whatever. 

Either way, Even was still bipolar and sort of _screwed up,_ as he himself said it. He made an effort to minimize on “risky behaviors” because it’s not like he _enjoyed_ scaring the living hell out of Isak. Quite the opposite, really. And, in a gesture, Isak quit them too (for the most part-- it was sort of difficult to stray from social pressures, especially when it comes from some of your closest friends, but, yeah). 

For a time, it was difficult not to feel dead every moment he was awake. Without a lot of those activities, he found it a lot harder to be in social settings. But guess who had answers almost 80% of the time.

“It feels weird showing up to a party when--”

He knew. “Take a bottle of water, or… Cigarettes, if you _really_ need something to smoke. I don’t think nicotine fucks with your meds, does it?” Isak leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, squinting in thought as he watched his boyfriend work his fingers through his hair. “Just tell Mikael or whoever asks that you’re a law abiding citizen now.” He joked, lazily gesturing with one hand as he stepped toward him and lifted his chin to Even’s shoulder.

“What are you gonna do, then?” He tapped his finger on the end of the other boy’s nose, which Isak wrinkled in response.

“I don’t need to drink.”

Even shrugged, trying to keep his smile to himself. Isak planted a smacking kiss on his cheek before winking at him in the mirror and stepping out of the bathroom.

__

#####

You know what’s ridiculous? 

Manic depression.

Jesus christ.

Isak didn’t even _have it_ and he hated it. Fucking hated watching Even wish he were dissolving, wish he was molding into the mattress and falling out like that scene in Mama, or something. Fucking _hated_ that the only thing he could do was watch. Wait for it to be over. Wait for Even to take this one out on his own, like he’d done his whole life, while Isak lied next to him and just… Watched, with him. 

Watched days turn to nights turn to days, watching Even go through every stage of grief in eight seconds flat. Watched him toss and turn in bed, watching him knit his eyebrows together every time he wondered how many breaths he would take before it was his last.

Sometimes he got the courage to tap at the older boy’s shoulder, pull him into his chest and mumble that he _loves_ him, that he _cares about_ him, _he’s right here, he’s right here, he’ll always be right here._

The only problem with doing that is that he still felt oddly helpless. Like Even’s ears had closed up when he kissed the shell of them, like his words were literally falling on deaf ears, because Even never responded.

Well, wait, it’s… He didn’t expect Even to reply. That’s not what it was about. It’s that, if anything, Even seemed to _shrivel_ when he pulled something like that. And the older boy was always quick to remind him, _no, i want you here, you help. you help me so much._ But holy shit, it did _not_ seem like it.

If it fucking helped, then why did Even’s hands curl to fists every time? Why did his brows furrow like he was in _pain?_ Why did-- okay, this. This wasn’t about him. He knew that. He just… Had questions.

“I like your skin,” Isak just. Found himself whispering. His lips were against the older boy’s crown, fingers skating up and down the older boy’s back. He could feel Even swallow, if it was any testament how to tightly they were curled together. 

But, like. It was that moment, it had to be _that moment_ when his boyfriend said something for the first time since Isak had gotten home. 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” was all it was, but it was so fucking small. It didn’t even sound like it came from Even, too mangled under his breath to even-- if wasn’t the middle of the night, if they weren’t the only ones awake in the apartment, Isak would have been sure it was someone else. It just sound so busted, ripped down the middle that...

Well, if that didn’t fucking burn, then. What did.

The younger boy swallowed. “Even, I could never… I could never hate you.”

“You say that _now,”_

“Yeah,” Isak cut him off, sort of startling the other boy with his answer. Even peeled back to look at him with something impossible in his glance, but Isak was speaking again before he could. “Yeah, I do say that now, in this minute. And I’ll be saying it the next one, and the next one, and the next…” He shrugged. Like it was that fucking easy.

Even opened his mouth again, but Isak was still there. “I say that forever. I could never hate you, Even.”

__

#####

“What’s up?” He asked, barely audible. Even yanked his hands from the water, shaking them off briskly as he turned to face Isak. 

“My… head.” He swallowed. His hands were sort of trembling, clenching and unclenching as the burning faded. The younger boy searched his face intently, patiently as he waited for further explanation. It took him a long moment to realize one wasn't coming. 

The evening had already winded down, both boys wiped clean of energy reserves after a party Vilde’s. Isak had been tired enough to doze off on Even’s shoulder during the tram ride north, which made him pretty easy to put to bed upon arrival.

Even’s mind was spinning. _Knowing_ he shouldn't smoke and actually _doing it_ were two completely different things. Besides, Isak had been there with him, it's not like he'd let the older boy go off the rails. And he knew that. But being in a quiet home with a mind like a boiling tea kettle was a breed of unsettling Even never thought about.

He dressed down and turn the sink warmer and warmer until he couldn't really feel the burn when Isak startled him. 

“You were asleep?”

“Like...eight percent, maybe.” He raised an eyebrow, taking a step forward to take hold of Even’s fingers. He ran his finger over the bristled skin, obviously trying to distract the older boy. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I _want_ you to go back to sleep.” It came out harsher than he intended, sort of blunt and forceful in a way that had Isak’s expression fall a little. If he didn’t know Isak, it wouldn’t have meant anything, but. Here they were.

Isak let go of his hand, clearly deterred. It made a needle-like feeling shoot down Even’s diaphragm, fingers autonomously going after the younger boy’s own palm, but Isak was stepping backward too quickly. 

Fuck. Wait. Please.

“Alright,” He said, voice too even and patient for Even to accept. He nodded and said, “Just come lay down whenever you--”

“Don’t,” Even’s mouth, completely separate from his brain apparently, whispered. Isak paused immediately, furrowing his brow in confusion. “Don’t, I didn’t mean…”

Isak’s face fell again, this time into something much more comprehensive, much more… He got it. He nodded once, took two steps forward. “Alright,” He said, and Even couldn’t help but cut him off again.

“Can you stand here with me?” He asked, getting a swift nod from Isak. “It’s like I can’t see, or something.”

“What’s…” He looked pensive for a moment, eyes focused on his thoughts before pursing his lips and speaking again. “Five things you can see right now.”

Even blinked slowly. “What?”

“C’mon, let’s go. Five things you can see, babe.” Isak looked weirdly serious, then, so Even decided to play along.

“Uh…” He clicked his tongue, glanced around. “The shower curtain, the light switch. There’s floor tile, um… I can see… the towel rack?” His voice lilted, a little confused and offset because of it. He looked back to Isak with a shrug. Maybe with a little smile. “My beautiful boyfriend.”

The harsher tones in the younger boy’s expression melted. “Oh my god, shut up. Alright, four things you can touch.”

“Why?”

“Even, c’mon. It’ll help.” He pursed his lips out in some sort of pleading expression, figuring it would work, and. It… did, but. That’s besides the point. He wasn’t about to say no that face.

“My shirt,” he sighed, rubbing the cloth between his forefinger and thumb. “The tile is cold under my feet, I’m touching that. Your arms…” He trailed off for a second, running ginger fingers down Isak’s forearms and then squeezing a fingertip between his own. “Your fingernails.”

“Three things you can hear.”

Isak was insistent, it was kind of comforting. “Your voice, the sink dripping, the clock ticking.” He answered easily, mostly because two of those were the things he focused on before Isak found him in here. “That it?”

“Two things you can smell.”

“What?” He gave him a little bit of an incredulous smile, but Isak only raised a brow. “Seriously? You guys are a little frantic about keeping the bathroom clean.”

“Even.”

“The air freshener,” He tried lamely, sort of lost on the other thing before… Huh.

He leaned forward, grappling Isak around the shoulders quick enough to make him stumble forward as Even hugged him tight, nuzzling into his hair. “Your hair smells good, does that count?” He mumbled, sort of muffled alongside Isak’s laugh into his shoulder.

“I guess,” He smiled, pulling back and winding his own arms around Even’s ribs. “What’s one thing you can taste?”

Even balked. He wondered for a moment that Isak had set it up specifically so he could do this, but it faded-- the squeal the younger boy elicited when Even licked around his mouth sounded too surprised for it to be planned. He pulled back, taking in Isak’s peachy blush with the laugh bubbling in his throat.

“What, you didn’t--”

“That’s not what I meant for you to--” They stopped, Isak sort of leaned back into Even’s arms and just-- this. They both burst into a little bit of laughter, conscious of their sleeping roommates and the sound bouncing off the bathroom walls. Even tugged him forward again, pulling Isak’s face into his neck and keeping him there to press his lips against his temple.

“You here now?” Isak whispered, palms splayed wide. Even nodded.

__

#####

“Talk to me,” Isak murmured, his voice barely audible. Even let a horrid shiver run down his spine before he looked over his shoulder.

Maybe an hour ago, he’d woken up to find himself shaking just as badly, fingernails drawing blood from his palm and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He’d dreamed of nothing but the aching feeling that came with impenetrable self loathing, nothing but the burning that came with feeling gashes under hot water. His breathing was _fine,_ was the thing, and he was thankful that he hadn’t woken Isak up at the time.

But… time drawled after that. He’d rolled off the mattress to lean against the side of it, trying to work the kinks from his neurons by pulling at the roots of his hair and pinching bruises into his thighs. And for a while, he was fine to do that, but. 

He wanted Isak.

So when he heard this fraction of a decibel, the smallest whisper behind him telling him to _talk to him,_ he thought he made it up.

But here his boyfriend was, lying on his stomach with his left arm outstretched across Even’s side of the bed, fingers lamely groping for the older boy’s bare shoulder. His hair was mussed from sleep. It sort of reminded him of the first night they spent together, and the thought made something burn in his chest. Despite the heaviness the younger boy’s eyes, Even could tell he was wide awake and-- hell, he could have been watching Even that entire time.

“Talk to me,” He murmured again, making a squeezing _c’mere_ gesture with his fingers that made something crawl inside Even’s diaphragm. “Evi.”

He laid his head back on the mattress, sighing when he felt Isak’s fingernails flit across his scalp. His hands were so _soft,_ what the hell. 

“How long have you been up?” He asked, dropping it when he felt the mattress shift as Isak moved closer. He wrapped an arm over Even’s chest, pressing a smacking kiss to his cheek. What got the older boy to smile, though, was his incessant nuzzling of his ear. It… okay, it fucking tickled, but he wasn’t about to jerk away, because it was… warm. Isak made him so warm. 

“How long have _you_ been up?” Isak matched him, voice still light from disuse. Even blinked twice. “Evi.”

“If you keep--” Even turned his head, shivering as Isak’s hand in his scalp shifted with it. He met the other boy’s eyes and, still, though lidded, had no trace of exhaustion. “Keep calling me that, and you’re not gonna have a mouth to keep--”

“Keep what?” Isak asked, mischief decorating his features as he squinted. “Keep doing what with my mouth, exactly?”

“Listen,” the older boy tugged on a lock of his hair. “You’re gonna make me all mushy. I’m trying to be upset.”

His squint changed into something more inquisitive, only really visible by their proximity (Even was pretty sure he could feel their eyelashes brushing, but that’s beside the point). “Upset about what?”

Even only blinked again, mostly because Isak’s sigh had messed with his eyes when he didn’t reply.

“Please talk to me.” Isak whispered, continuing to move his fingers throughout Even’s hair. 

“I don’t know--” He said, maybe a little to sharply by the way Isak jolted. He reached up with his own hand to tangle in the soft curls at the base of Isak’s neck, gently pushing him forward so he could be blinded by his eyes again. “I don’t know what’s wrong. This happens.”

“No weird dreams?”

“No weird dreams. I think I just, like. Get upset about living while I’m asleep.”

“That’s pretty fucked up.” He deadpanned, trying to be humorous. 

“Thanks.” Even said. His voice was a little sarcastic. Enough to get Isak to laugh, anyway.

“I was kidding, asshole. Are you alright? Sounded like you were going into hyperthermic shock.” Even could see the smile in his eyes, and it made him grin as well.

“Hy _po_ thermic, Issy.”

“What’d you call me?”

Maybe it was the light in his eyes, or something. Maybe it was the mess of his hair, or the way his cupid’s bow peeled open when he smiled. But Even couldn’t keep his mouth from running. “When I told you about that feeling I get in my head, where I’m, like, trapped in my thoughts? I get that a lot. Like. Apparently to the extent that I feel it in my sleep. It makes me feel like I’m having an asthma attack.”

The younger boy pursed his lips. “How do you make it go away?”

“I don’t.”

__

#####

“I’m glad you came to school,” Isak tried, offering him a smile that was absolutely ridden with something Even wanted no part in.

(He read it as pity, but if you asked Isak, it was concern, or _compassion,_ if you caught him in the right mood). 

“Doesn’t really say much about the condition I’m in,” Even shrugged, offering his own guilty smile. “Sorry.”

“It’s a step up from being in bed.”

“I think you mean a step _down.”_ He squinted, and he could tell that Isak was thrilled to hear the humor in his tone. He pursed his lips out, kissing Isak’s temple once before turning to go to class, when--

“Hey, wait,”

The younger boy’s palm connected with his bicep, effectively turning him around just as gracefully. Isak had concern written all over his face this time. “If you need to go, please go. I don’t want you to get all worn out.”

“I think I’m permanently worn out, babe.” He stepped back closer to the other boy. Isak’s hand didn’t leave his arm.

“I think you’re permanently forgetful that other emotions exist, man.” Isak raised a brow, and Even’s eyes widened with a huff of laughter.

“That was a lot of big words for you, boy.”

Isak balked, and if that wasn’t just the cutest fucking thing. “Excuse me! I know a ton of words. Whatever. You told me that once anyway.”

“That you know a ton of words?” He tilted his head, and Isak was so dramatic with his eye rolls, oh jesus. It was almost amazing how quickly he could change the tone of the conversation with that. Just his fucking eye rolls. Bye.

“No, asshole. About the emotions thing.”

Even shrugged. “Sounds like something I’d say.”

“Even.” It was a little more serious than the older boy was prepared for, admittedly, but. “I’m not kidding. It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay. Just take it minute for minute. But if you need to go home…”

“I hear you.” He nodded a little, kissing Isak’s temple again (and then once on the lips, because fuck it). “I hear you.”

__

#####

The next victory was probably the cutest thing that’d ever happened.

Listen. It was.

At least… to Isak. Maybe to Even, too, but he was _never_ going to ask.

The medication thing had become a ritual for them. Once in the morning and once at night. Sometimes it turned into-- yeah. The amount of showers they take doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone in the apartment. Yeah.

On any given Monday morning, it’s the hardest. 

“Even, c’mere,”

“Can I just lay in bed for _one day?”_ He groaned, tugging the blanket over his head as the other boy scoffed. 

“Yes, you can,” Isak furrowed his brow, smile on his face. “Still gotta take your meds, though.”

_“Nnnnn.”_

“Don’t _nnnn_ me, tough guy. C’mere.”

_“Nnnnn.”_

“Babe, please.” He was sitting on the floor next to Even, arms crossed on the mattress. He shifted forward to rest his chin on an elbow. He faked a pout until the older boy peeked out from under the comforter. 

“I swear,” Even groaned a little less vehemently, “If you weren’t so cute.”

“Oh, pfft,” Isak leaned forward a little, meeting the other boy in the middle with his nose. “You should see yourself.”

“Bite me.”

Isak raised his eyebrows, _actually_ taking the chapped edge of Even’s lip in his mouth at a sideways angle, making the other boy _giggle._ Like. _Giggle_ giggle. The corners of Isak’s mouth turned up, eyes whipping to meet Even with a _what was that_ on his tongue as the older boy murmured, “I’m still not gonna get out of bed.”

He paused, furrowing his brow. “You don’t have to,” He replied softly. “Just take these for me. You’ll get all sick if you don’t.”

Even looked like he was debating. “I don’t want to sit up.”

“Well, then,” Isak put the tablets in his own mouth, crawling over top Even to straddle his hips and lean over him, forearms on either side of his head. “How about this?”

“Jesus,” Even groaned, a laugh on his lips, “Why are you like this?”

“These taste bad, can--”

Even’s laugh turned toothy, effectively making Isak want to duck and hide his own dumbass smile when his boyfriend tugged at his shirt collar and connected their mouths. 

And that was their new routine. Wake up Even by landing on his stomach, which never failed to make him laugh.

__

#####

It’s not always cute, though, and Even never let himself forget that. This isn’t cute. He doesn’t _want_ to be cute. Damn. Just let him be sad and work it out.

He always felt worse during these moments, too, because he knew the lows were always paired with the highs. All he could do at that point was hope that the high wasn’t severe.

He wiped at his eyes and glanced at the ceiling, knowing tonight was going to suck. It was a goddamn Wednesday. He needed to go to school. It was 3:45 in the _morning_ and he just wanted to _sleep_ and--

“Babe?” He heard a murmur. A soft hand came down on his chest, fingertips applying a feather light pressure. “Even?”

He shook his head, wiping at his eyes again and trying to settle his breathing.

It took a couple minutes to think about it, but Even’s eyes opened and he noticed the soft light filtering from his left. He glanced around the ceiling for a second before (somewhat) reluctantly peering over.

Isak was sitting in front of his laptop, dressed only in his boxers and a t-shirt as he typed with one hand, right hand never leaving Even’s heartbeat. His own eyes looked over to the older boy, eyebrows furrowing in poorly masked concern as their eyes met. 

“Even?”

That was it. 

“I’m going to do crazy shit again,” He said quietly, unsure how to make himself stop. “That’s the way it works. I’m going to go off the deep end and sometimes it takes a long time to crawl out. You just have to know that. I’m sorry.”

“I’ll just catch you, then.” Isak said like it was the easiest thing in the world, like saying the sky is blue. It made something twist in Even’s stomach. He swallowed, unsure if it was sour or sweet.

“I’m not dragging you down with me.” Because he has to fight him every step of the way. He wasn’t sure if he meant it, but his… He pushes people away. That’s what happens. And apparently Isak knew it, too.

“Who says I’m not just going to drag us out?” His voice was light. It was like he was talking about the weather, words falling easily from his lips and sort of startling Even at how quickly he replied. Isak didn’t even look up from his laptop, eyes a little shinier than before as he typed up whatever paper he didn’t get the chance to work on earlier. Even swallowed. “I’ll be waiting at the bottom, and I’ll carry you back out.”

“I don’t know if I want you to.” The older boy said it quietly. He didn’t mean it. He just wanted to see what--

Isak leaned over slowly, propping himself on an elbow and leaning above Even to meet his eyes. “I’m going to anyway.”

His tone was firm.

A small kiss to his forehead nearly had Even in tears, for some reason. But Isak was still whispering against his skin. “You saved some part of me, and I’m going to save this part of you.”

Goddamnit. Even wiped his eyes.

He was so gone for this boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, here it at:  
> i too have manic depression! and i felt HORRIBLY nervous (read: awfully disgustingly horridly nervous) about writing about it on this medium because 1) characters like Even are _so_ fucking important to me that any misportrayal of them is like. a cardinal sin to me, or something, and 2) everyone experiences manic depression differently, ESPECIALLY MDEs, and i had exactly all the fears in the world about people telling me that I wasn't describing things correctly, or "that's not what episodes are really like" or something?? but i wanted to talk about this and how important it is to talk about what you're feeling because MAN it HELPS. jesus. it fucking helps. please talk to someone if you're feeling badly. talk to a friend? talk to [_me?_](lachesisrn.tumblr.com) just talk about it.
> 
> otherwise, i really hope you enjoyed this one. i have a few other chapters currently at, like, anywhere from 34% to 89% in readiness, so you can anticipate another chapter this weekend >:)


	9. how to: make him laugh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little 3+1 where our boys make each other laugh. It's cute & fluffy and that's about it tbh
> 
> \- I never abandoned this work! My brain chemistry is fucked and I had to stop like... living for a little while but I'm back! I'm back I promise  
> \- this is being posted right now (originally meant for it to be Monday) because today's clip made me real fuckin sad and I'm sure I'm not the only one! So here's some fluff!  
> \- a tornado ripped through the town I live in yesterday and my house is still without power/internet, so I'm posting this unbeta'd from my phone inside a Starbucks, so like... if there's glaring mistakes that's why  
> -I hope you enjoy <3333 [you can still find me here!](http://lachesisrn.tumblr.com)

“You guys are a power couple,” Vilde had said.

“I like how you guys are still _friends,”_ Noora commented.

“If you weren't constantly all over each other, I'd say you were brothers,” Magnus had laughed, earning a moment of horror from Isak that was quickly replaced by some breed of shocked laughter.

“What the fuck?” He'd laughed, palming over his face as Even threw his own head back. “Magnus, what the _fuck?”_

“No, no! I meant, like, because you bicker so much! You're always laughing at each other and poking fun and stuff. Not fucking… incest, or whatever.” He was blooming cherry red over his ears, and while everyone could see the sense there, letting it go was… no. Not gonna happen.

“Jesus, first it’s hooking up with _cats,_ now it’s watching _siblings_ bang,” Jonas was saying, and apparently it was too much for Even, as he bent at the waist to keep a laugh in his lungs. His shoulders were shaking and it, just. That made Isak's whole day better. So he was gonna let Magnus get away with that one. 

But… the point there is, that, like, apparently more than enough people… uh.

Even quirked a brow in thought. 

They… _enjoy_ wasn't the right word, but like. They definitely weren't quiet about what they thought of his and Isak's relationship. For what rare comments they got about something… not so bright, there was something positive to compensate tenfold. It was great. Even didn't mind. Did not mind in the least. 

In the beginning, there was a lot of _don't look,_ and _are they looking?_ which didn't leave room for those sort of comments, but, like. Ever since the whole _kiss me. right now. do it._ thing at a party of Vilde’s, ever since they grew into their relationship and became much less concerned with who knew it, there's just. 

A lot of laughs.

A lot of, _oh my god, does it really look that way?_ and a lot of Isak _snorting_ and _tearing up_ from laughter and if Even could see it, could make room for those comments every single day to see Isak laugh that way, he would. Solicited or otherwise. Seeing the younger boy laugh just… made the sun come out, made the stars shine. Made the Earth turn even when Even’s felt at a standstill. 

It wasn't like Isak didn't feel similarly, either. Yo, like. If he could get Even to laugh? Like really, throaty, cannot-catch-a-breath laughter where he has to hiccup, has to throw his head back -- listen, it just. Isak was done for. Everything, everyone can go home. Those sparkling eyes and toothy grin were all he needed. 

****

**I)**

So here they were, constantly fishing for ways to get the other boy to crack up, to bust it like it was some sort of side quest in an RPG. Like. Like…

Like, subsequent to an inebriated scuffle that ended with Even shyly palming the back of his neck, mumbling something about, “maybe I should… go home, for the night?” and leading to -- uh, well, exactly that? Both boys spent the night wallowing.

Not, like. Not _New Moon_ wallowing, but there was a concerning amount of anxiously glancing at text threads to see if the other was typing, if they should start typing, if they should wait, what is he thinking, what is he thinking, what is he thinking, what is

Yeah. 

No one was enjoying themselves.

‘S not like they hadn't fought before, and harsher things had been said, but. This was the first time they'd _gone to bed_ angry, and if Isak's shaking fingers flicking through Yahoo Answers was any indication, it was some kind of cardinal rule that _you should never do that._

So they sat under separate covers in separate beds, in separate rooms, and that alone felt like too many layers between them for their current situation.

 _I didn't mean it,_ Isak wanted to type. _I was just frustrated. I could never mean any of those things. I don't even know where it came from. I'm so sorry._

_I'm sorry._

_I'm sorry._

And from where Even was sitting, there was no way of seeing his eyebrows furrow, no way of seeing the younger boy settle his face in his palms and see his shoulder tremble. No way of seeing words he didn't know how to say. 

And from where Isak was sitting, there was no way to see Even blinking furiously as he kept checking, rechecking, rechecking, rechecking their text threads. No way to see him lie his back and sigh, no way to see his eyes trace patterns on the ceiling and the gears turn behind his hairline. 

Stayed like that for an entire night. And it only got worse. 

All Even could think about come 4:00 was how glittery Isak's eyes were before he became uncomfortable, how he could see a nebula in his irises. How his cupid’s bow peeled back into something tight, something toothy and goofy and he--

Ah, Jesus. What the fuck. Whatever.

At the same time, he'd give a whole lot to know he could make Isak do it again. Even if it was four in the morning. 

So, yeah, he grabbed his phone.

Not to stumble over a typed apology, no, that… no. He wasn't even sure what they fought about, at this point, so there damn sure wasn't anything to apologize for. 

No, what he-- okay, it's 4:18.

He types the message, watches the clock. 

4:19. This is gonna be so good. 

But alas.

_( **I dag** 4:20) **Isak❤️** : Wake up I miss you _

_(4:20) **Me** : 420 blaze it _

_(4:20) **Me** : oh_

Even’s mouth dropped open to a perfect O, a huff coming out surprised and just, oh, god. oh god.

_(4:21) **Isak❤️** : HVA _

_(4:21) **Isak❤️** : I _

_(4:22) **Isak❤️** : “OH”_

Even’s still sputtering as his boyfriend’s contact name flashes on the screen one, twice, four times when he calls. 

“Hello?” He makes an effort to compose himself for a whole two seconds until he hears Isak gasping on the end of the receiver, apparently too overwhelmed to greet back. 

“You-- you fuckin’--” Isak snorts, loud and hearty, and it makes something hurt in Even’s chest. He quickly decides it's a good hurt. 

“Oh my, babe,” Even catches his palm over his eyes. He's laughing enough for Isak to hear it. There's no way it isn't coming across embarrassed. “I didn't--” 

“That made my whole day,” Isak's laugh, it’s just. His voice is so light. Jittery, like he can't keep a whole breath in before little chuckles come bubbling out and oh, fuck, Even wishes he were there to press his lips against the younger boy’s cheek. Feel the warmth in his blush. Feel Isak's fingers undoubtedly come up against his neck, around his shoulders. 

“It's only four?” Even's smiling so big. So big. He knows Isak can hear it. It'll be amazing if he doesn't call him out on it. 

“I don't care,” he says instead, coming down from the high. “I don't care. Nothing's gonna take that from me.” 

Even’s still thinking of a reply when Isak bursts into laughter again. It makes him let out a snort, too. “I can't fucking believe you,” he says, and, just. Oh god. Even wants to be there so bad. Push Isak into the mattress. Poke at his ribs and make him squeal. 

“What?” He takes the hand from his eyes, sort of brought back to the weight of the darkness around him. 

“Every single time I think I have you pegged, you just. Come out of nowhere again.” Even’s lips peel back again, knowing his boyfriend’s smile is just as wide. “You know what, you just. Shit like this reminds me why I love you.” 

Well, if there was ever a tone to remind him of what the circumstances were. 

“What?” He says again, differently, a little more serious, something stonier. Isak's quiet for a moment. 

“That was me trying to apologize,” He sort of mumbles, and the older boy immediately recognizes it. That's dejection, and that's. Not what he wanted to happen. 

“No, no, baby,” and suddenly he's reeling, trying to pull Isak back in before he's too far from shore. “I know, I didn't mean it like that. I meant, like, how does that remind you--” 

“Even,” 

“Isak--” 

“Do you wanna come over?” 

“What?” 

“When I said I missed you, that wasn't a joke?” Isak's voice lilts up, twinkles for a second, and that heat is right back in Even’s chest. But that stone is still hard. He swallows, nods before he recognizes Isak can't see him. 

“It's, like, 4:30?” 

And then it's quiet, “Is that… no?” 

And then he's pulling back again. “I was just making sure _you_ knew. I'll totally-- yeah, I'm on my way.” 

“You don't… have to.” 

“Isak, please,” He's already climbing down the ladder, pulling sweatpants up his legs. “I really want to, trust me.” 

When he does get there, he doesn't get the opportunity to let himself in before the apartment door is swinging open, a bed-tousled Isak pulling at his shoulders. He easily meets him in the middle, somewhat reminiscent of a time in November. 

“Don't leave again, Jesus christ,” Isak's somehow breathless, and Even makes an effort to mistake it for the younger boy trying to beat him to the door. 

“I won't have a reason to, if it only takes pot jokes to get you to laugh,” Even says, completely serious, but Isak lets out another little ring of laughter and that's just. If that isn't everything. 

Then what is. ****

_**II)** _

__

It's not so… heavy, every time they make an effort to get the other to lose their wits. Most of the time it’s relatively lighthearted, something they both take away from in ways that… in ways where there is no aching. Sometimes that hurt is imperative, even pivotal, for them to grow.

But other times, it's just. Simple. It's just. 

Just when Even has Isak figured out. Just when he's able to say, _I can totally predict how he'll react to x/y/z,_ he's introduced to these new facet of his boyfriend that continually adds more pieces to the puzzles. 

He likes it. Keeps things interesting. 

So he guesses it's not _that_ simple, but listen. 

They have a game. 

_what'd you call me?_ \-- almost exclusively comprised of coming up with weird names, somehow affectionate, mostly ridiculous, to try and get a rise out of the other. They're fucking good at it, too. 

A lot of them require context, like, if someone just asked them to list off the pet names they use, shit like _honeydew_ or _peanut butter cup_ could slide without it, could earn them a perturbed glance from the inquirer at worst. But when you fucking. 

You can't. Say, like, you… can't… 

Hold on. 

As they'd grown more public, cozier around friends, Even frequented lunch at Nissen with Isak more and more often. Which. Inevitably. 

Also meant seeing the boys. 

It's not like it's a bad thing, not by any means. They all enjoy each other’s company, absolutely. No malice (not anymore--), just. Amiable. 

There's also… a lot of conversation. 

And by that… Even means, there's a lot of questions about the inner workings of, uh. 

Well. You know Magnus. The guy’s trying. 

"I don't get it,” he's saying, mouth full. Even’s eyes keep flicking to Isak, who looks like he'd rather be anywhere than here. “I just-- look, how fair is it that you'd get _every single chick_ you went after, and then turn out to be gay? That doesn't even make sense. How did you--” 

“Dude,” Isak thumbs at his own nose for a second, mocking contemplation. “Girls fall for anything. You just have to… Know how to use your words.” 

"Worked on him,” it's so offhanded that Even doesn't even recognize he said it until Isak's elbowing him, faux offense decorating his features. Even snorts, ready to back himself up when, 

“Oh, I get it, so Isak's like the woman in your relationship. Makes sense how he'd get to--” 

“Stop,” Isak has a palm up. Magnus furrows his brow. “No. There is. No.. girl, here. There is not.” 

“Good words.” Even elbows him, attempting to lighten the air. It has some affect, only visible by the tension release in Isak's figure as he does it, so he figures he'll go further. “Listen, Mags, have you ever heard of heteronormativity?” 

“Uh,” Magnus furrows his brow further, and it's Isak barks a laugh before he can keep going. 

"That's probably too big a word for him at, what,” he checks a watch he doesn't have, “11:30?” 

The humor doesn't leave the air when Magnus’s smile does. Instead, he comes back with, “Dude, I was just gonna say that that's how you got girls so easy. You're like… wait, holy shit, is this why gay guys are such chick magnets?” 

There's a record scratch in Even’s mind. Wh-- 

_”What_ magnets?” He asks, leaning forward incredulously. Magnus matches his gaze. 

_”Chick_ magnets?” 

“Wait… what did…” Isak looks between them for a moment, only seeming appeased when Even runs a palm down his face with a smile. 

“I… one hundred percent thought you said _dick_ magnets.” Even shakes his head. “I'm not even sure which one’s worse.” 

Magnus sputters for a second over his own chuckle, giving the older boy the opportunity to-- 

“You'd be like, _Gayneto,”_ Even’s chuckling, lifting his drink to his mouth when he sees Isak’s eyes blow wide. He takes the drink away, leaning away to get a better look at the younger boy when-- 

He notices the corners of his lips turned up, evidently trying to maintain a facade as he tries to say, “Wh-- what’d you call--” 

He really can't even finish it before he's leaning forward to rest his forehead on the table, shoulders shaking in the kind of silent laughter Even never wants him to hold in. He'd give anything to hear it, but. 

“Gayneto?” Magnus has a brow quirked, making an effort to quell his own laughter, only to completely fail when Even’s sheepish smile doesn't give him any answers. 

Even shrugs comically, picking up his palms and watching as Isak has to wipe his dumb fucking, fucking emerald eyes on his sleeve. He's looking at Even with so much disbelief and amusement that Even can't help struggling to keep his own laugh down in the middle of the cantina. 

Long story short, when Even says, “Listen, _Gayneto,_ only half of this relationship knows how to knead dough and I'm sorry, but you're the other half,” with a finger poking Isak in the sternum, teasing laughter bubbling out of their throats, it's hushed, they're sort of whispering, noses bumping and fingertips a little too tender-- 

“What'd you call him?” Eskild has a coffee mug pulled from his lips, _way_ to interested to let this go, it shouldn't be a surprise when Isak's flush goes all the way down his collar and Even’s left snorting into his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

Yeah, you can get away with _baby_ and _love_ and that, that… normal stuff. 

You can't… run around calling your boyfriend a _baby giraffe_ in front of your friends and expect to keep your street cred. 

Ask Isak. 

**III)**

Alongside making an exceptional effort to keep Isak from falling asleep as they waded through another Monday, Even was. Fucking.

Gonna go off the deep end. 

No joke, Isak had exactly zero fucking clue why Even was so adamant about making him get out of bed -- like, for real. It's. Monday. Nothing is going to happen. No new units or lectures, no exams, nothing he needs to take care of. Just. He could totally sleep in.

But no. Even, with darker circles than he's had in weeks and a clipped tongue decorating his speech, dragged him from the mattress and into the shower. 

“If I'm going, so’re you.”

“What?”

But really, that's all they'd said to each other this morning. 

_The point,_ Even wanted to say, _is that I don't know how far I'm gonna make it today and having you around somehow… alleviates it. I don't know. I'm not gonna tell you that, though, because then you'll be worried all day long and neither of us nee--_

“Even?” 

He lifts his chin from where it was burrowed his elbow. Something soft in Isak's gaze make his stomach burn for a moment, like the concern there _literally_ ate away at his second brain. 

He quirks a brow in question. “Isak?”

It's apparent that Isak is. 

Uh.

Nervous. 

“Are you…” The younger boy reaches across the table with purpose, fingers still yielding as they ran across Even’s cheekbone. His eyes fall shut. “You… are a cat.”

“Hm?” Even’s brow quirks again. 

“Never mind. Um. I know it's only, like, 10, but it doesn't take two to see you're not doing so hot.” Isak’s fingers are tracing the line of his jaw, the shell of his ear as he speaks and _damn_ if that in of itself doesn't make Even sleepy--

“You still with me?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, shifting back and forth to sit up properly. “I can't keep missing school, though.”

“Okay, so, like,” Isak gets up for a second, moving around the bench to sit beside Even instead. By themselves, it was a lot easier to be affectionate, way more simple than monitoring themselves around their friends. So, in moments like this, when they did find themselves alone in the courtyard, Isak found it effortless to wind an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder and tug their sides together. 

He also didn’t feel the need to suppress a shiver when Even let out a deep sigh from where he was nestled in Isak’s neck. 

“What if…” He continued, swallowing as he felt the other boy continue to crawl into his lap. “What if, we just. You can pick up right here tomorrow, okay? Both of us want to go home, and…”

“You already had me gone when you let me lie here,” Even mumbled, and the admission really wasn’t meant to be humorous, but here Isak was, fuckin’... chuckling. “When did you wanna…”

“Even,” Isak wrapped his other arm around him, pressing a dry kiss to his temple. “Let’s go. Right now. I do not care.” 

“What if they, like,” Even sighed something dramatic, and for the briefest moment, Isak was reminded of himself. “What if they call my parents, or something?”

Alright, well. “You sound like me,” He joked, pulling at his boyfriend by the shoulders to get him to shift around and face him properly. “If they do, I’m more than confident your parents will get it. Besides, don’t you have, like, a slip that lets you get out more often than others?”

Even shrugged, eyes downcast.

“Whatever,” Isak tried to half smile. “Are we going home, or what?”

And when the other boy didn’t reply, Isak had a short moment where he wanted to sort of piggy-back him home -- it took even less time to recognize there was exactly zero way that was happening. The older boy was already a deadweight on his shoulder, having to carry him like that would be more exhausting than trying to get out of bed in the first place. 

They sat like that for-- it couldn’t have been more than a minute, really, but Isak felt like he spent at least an hour trying to come up with a good way to bring the other boy back to the kollektivet on his own two feet. He combed gentle fingers alone Even’s scalp in the meantime. 

He swallowed. “If it’ll help. I can bring a joint.”

“I’ll bring my sparkling personality,” Even deadpanned, only adjusting himself when he felt Isak start to shake. “Wait, what?”

The younger boy had a palm over his eyes, mouth turned down as he tried to conceal-- _laughter._

Something bloomed inside him.

“You’re so lame,” He tried, and that was it. Isak tried to pinch his lips in when Even scoffed indignantly, but that was it. It was too late. 

“Excuse me,” Even tilted his head a little comically, leaning around so that he was kind of in front of his boyfriend. “I am the coolest person I know? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Jesus, can you-- you’re the most annoying person I know,” Isak looked up to save face, away from Even’s expression, but. 

“Weird, ‘cause I’m doing an impression of… You?” His voice was choppy in all the right places, lilting up at the end and making Isak huff through another bout of little giggles that made Even’s chest swell. 

“What!” He tried, pretending that matching flutter in his own chest wasn’t there when he saw the older boy giving him a toothy grin, eyes crinkled and just-- just fucking adorable.

**+I)**

Post-party Even was– in all honesty, was the one to know what time to go and to make sure Isak drank enough water before they went to bed. Not to say he didn't have fun in the same way, but like. Isak couldn't really say he was accustomed to leading his black-out drunk boyfriend up a dewy stairwell at two.

“Even,” he groaned, feeling excessively shameful for not watching a little closer. They'd separated about halfway through Vilde’s party, too pre-occupied with their own endeavors to make sure the other was doing alright after 23:00, and. 

Isak really fucking wishes he did, right now. He pulled at Even’s wrist again as they got through the apartment, locking it behind himself quickly so that the older boy didn't get into any mischief while he took off his shoes.

“C’mon, go,” he pushed, elbowing Even repeatedly until he could get them to his room. “You're gonna feel so gross tomorrow.”

“Hey, so’re you,” Even shot back, closing the door maybe a little too quickly. Isak got his fingers out of the way in time, but still. Dude. 

Even sank down the wall adjacent to the door to rest for a second (the walk home was pretty long, in all fairness) as he smiled dopily.

Isak couldn't help it as he sat down next to him. He shrugged at Even, looking at his own socks before he pulled out his phone.

“What're you doing?” Even asked, pawing at the device when Isak leaned away.

“Checking if blood-alcohol content can trigger mania, if I'm being honest,” He shrugged again, feeling the guilt make his ears go red. 

“Isak,” He laughed softly, reaching out lamely with one arm to pat the other boy’s shoulder. “You really don’t have to worry about it. I’ll be hungover and stay in bed all day. If I feel weird, you’ll probably notice before I do. You’re pretty good at that.”

Isak still didn’t look up from where he sat against the door. He shrugged, almost enough to knock Even’s hand off.

“You had a _lot_ to drink, is all. I don’t want you to, like, get angry with yourself or me because--”

“Why would I be angry over that? Babe, it happens. It’s gonna happen again. Being bipolar isn’t something… something to keep at bay. It’s brain chemistry. You’ve told me that a thousand times, especially when _I_ can’t even remember it. It’s just part of who I am, it’s not like cancer we should have to be afraid of returning.”

Isak shot a glance up at him at the word _bay,_ tears rimming his lashes. Even had to bite his tongue to keep going, but now that he’d finished, Isak didn’t… seem any better. He wasn’t sure that he expected him to. Didn’t mean he liked what he saw.

“Isak,” He sighed again, shifting forward a tad to get a proper grip on Isak’s shoulder so he could pull a little. “Come here.”

The younger boy conceded with a sigh of his own as he crawled forward on his knees to join Even against the wall adjacent to the door. Before Even could open his mouth again, Isak was throwing an arm over Even’s shoulder to tug him to his chest.

“Wh--”

“You scare me,” Isak let out a damp laugh, tousling Even’s hair with his free hand from where he held him in this… half-headlock, or. Yeah. “Jesus.”

“Same person, right?” Even grumbled, wrapping his arms around Isak’s waist to tuck into him further. 

“Oh my-- Even. Are you still _actually_ drunk? And you call _me_ a lightweight?” He teased, ignoring Even’s little _no!_ as he tugged at his shoulder again. “Oh, whatever. You. You’re insufferable. How about we go, like, take a shower, and then you’re gonna drink every milliliter of water I give you, and then we’re gonna go to bed.”

“Nnnn,” Even groaned. “We should just sleep here.”

“Eveeen,” He matched him with a whine of his own. “I just want to give you, like. Self esteem and blow jobs. Just let me do this.”

“Y--” Even could barely get the sound out before he was snapping his head up, looking at Isak with a breed of amusement he wasn't sure he'd ever seen. “You want to what?”

“Uh?” Isak quirked a brow, arm still hung loosely around Even’s shoulder as he started spluttering.

“What did you– Isak–” He laughed, dropping his forehead into the crest of Isak's neck. “You want to _what?”_

The younger boy could feel his own laughter bubbling in his chest, but decided to hang on to this for a bit longer. “I think you heard what I said?”

Even looked back up, little hums of laughter still escaping his lips as he bumped their noses together. 

“That was gonna be the cutest thing you've ever said, and then– you fuckin’–”

“Why’s it so funny?” He chuckled, tilting his head to meet Even’s gaze a little better.

“Imagine,” Even smacked a kiss to his cheekbone. “Imagine if I was the one feeling sorry here, and I'm all mopey and worn out, and then I look at you, like,” 

Even coughs into his elbow, steeling himself from laughing again before he settled properly in front of Isak with the most _pronounced_ out the younger boy thought he could muster. He could tell Even was struggling to keep from smiling as he let out his own little _pfft_. 

“But Isak–”

“You're so drunk,” they said simultaneously, making Even duck his head into Isak's chest again. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah, but you're laughing too, I can feel it,” Even pulled back again. “Now shut up. Let– _Isak,”_ he was laughing again when Isak imitated his pout, pulling one of Even’s hand to his chest for effect. 

“But _Even,”_ he mocked, doing nothing to help Even try and get his point across. Both of them were laughing too much at this point for it work, anyway. “Your bandana totally ruined it. You might've got–”

“Excuse you!” Even cut him off. “I look great in this!” 

“You look like you're attending fashion week,” Isak sneered a little, toothy smile completely giving him away. Even loved it. 

“Maybe I am!” Even rose his eyebrows, trying to give him an indignant look as he bumped their noses together again. Isak’s little giggles were making him dissolve from the inside. Who was he kidding. “No, for real though. What if I was moping like you were and just, like, ‘awh, babe, why can't you just, like, let me raise your confidence and eat your ass, that's all I want here,’” he could barely get through it without laughing, let alone when Isak shoved at his chest.

“You– Even, Jesus Christ, you're such a hot mess,” Isak covered his face in his palms, and they were so–

“See!”

“That wasn't a compliment!”

They were so… happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is almost exclusively inspired by [this Pinterest board I made...](http://pin.it/FIRVXns)whoops

**Author's Note:**

> ^^ in case you couldn't tell i'm nervous as hell about how i'm characterizing these kiddos... if you have anything (suggestions or otherwise) lmk. i don't bite and i love you


End file.
